Bella Rising
by PerfesserN
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange dies at the end of Deathly Hallows, right?
1. Prologue: The Pendant

Bellatrix Arising / Wood / 3

Prologue: The Pendant

Bellatrix rejoiced – Hot blood, searing flames, acrid smoke and noise, glorious noise. The delicious cacophony of killing and dying surrounded her, enveloped her, embraced her. She savored the smell of blood mixed with sweat and fear. She recognized the odd fleeting faces, the werewolf Lupin, her own niece Nymphadora, one of the Weasleys. They all fell before her and she felt rapturous joy at their passing and the part she played in liberating them from their unendurable misery.

"You are welcome, my love!" She screamed into the face of each of the dying. And in their last moments her victims knew that they had seen and been touched by pure madness.

She was playing with three schoolgirls when the Weasley matriarch cut in and began to play in earnest. Oh the joy she would bring this small, stout mother. Bellatrix tilted her head back and roared in delight when it happened.

A narrow-beam cutting curse struck the middle of her chest. If not for the blood pendant at her breast the beam would have sliced through her neatly as a rapier severing her aorta and killing her even as she stood dripping the blood of her victims and gloating. As it was the crystal center of the pendant shattered, and the blood within it commingled with hers. She dropped like a beautifully dark marionette suddenly deprived of her strings.

Bellatrix found herself walking down a narrow path. The sky was brilliant blue, the sloping hills green with lush grasses. The path, a wide walkway, seemed to follow the contours of one particular hill. As she rounded the gentle curve she saw a thin, dark-haired man sitting on a low stone fence. Walking nearer she could see his bright, youthful smile.

"Sirius?" She asked.

"In the flesh, so to speak." He answered.

She smiled and ran to hug him but stopped just short.

"But I killed you!" she cried. Then her face contorted in grief and remorse as she fell to her knees sobbing. "I'm sorry Sirius, I'm so, so sorry!"

Her favorite cousin knelt beside her so that he could gather her into a reassuring hug.

"You didn't mean it, Bella. I know that now."

She cried in his arms for an age it seemed and then sat back on her heels.

"I am dead, aren't I?"

"Sort of." He said.

"How can I be "sort of" dead? Isn't that like being just a "little" pregnant?"

"Remember the pendant that grandfather Aesop gave you when you first left home?"

Bellatrix brought her hand to her bosom to feel the reassuring weight of the pendant there, "He told me never to take it off. Even when I was in Azkaban the pendant was there under a powerful "notice-me-not" spell."

"Well, it seems that pendant contained a drop of blood from one of our ancestors, one who has yet to travel the road we're on today."

"An immortal?" She asked.

"A vampire."


	2. Chapter 1: Elysian Fields

Chapter 1 Elysian Fields

"Remember the pendant that grandfather Aesop gave you when you first left home?"

Bellatrix brought her hand to her bosom to feel the reassuring weight of the pendant, "He told me never to take it off. Even in Azkaban the pendant was there under a powerful "notice-me-not" spell."

"Well, it seems that pendant contained a drop of blood from one of our ancestors, one who has yet to travel the road we're on today."

"An immortal?" She asked.

"A vampire." Sirius said by way of clarification. "Eliza Shakespeare still walks the night. She will be drawn to you when you rise – listen carefully to everything she says, it's all important."

"Do I have to?" Bellatrix asked in a small voice.

Sirius helped her to her feet and said, "Walk with me a while, Bella."

"It's nice here," She said, "very clean, very green. No clutter. I won't miss that at all you know, the clutter."

He nodded then began to describe their surroundings. These are the Elysian Fields, everyone comes through here. This is the road that all must take to the next great adventure. Some people are content just to stay on the road; others will wait, as I did, for a loved one to come by. I saw Tom Riddle wandering around lost and confused, and before him your brother-in-law, Ted Tonks. Ted was leading Nymphadora down the path.

There are many forks in the road, some lead to villages, others to more urban settings.

"Which one leads to Hell?" she asked resignedly.

"You mean the fiery pit - the place of eternal pain and suffering?"

She nodded.

"Planning on going there?" he asked, seriously.

"Surely I won't be given a choice."

"Hate to disappoint you Bella, but there is no such place."

"No torment?"

"I didn't say that – you see, people who are given choices are completely responsible for their actions, or inactions while on Earth. It's what they do with those choices that make them happy or miserable while they're alive."

"I deserve nothing less than misery for the pain I've inflicted on others in my short life."

"You missed an important concept just now. Think Bella."

She thought for a moment, "You said people who are given choices."

"When was the last time you felt in control of your actions?"

Bella thought hard, concentrating on the events of her life. She was amazed at the richness of detail – she could see the whole of her life. It was like watching a play, where there was someone who played her, but wasn't her. She didn't see herself as the player until she'd regressed to her days at Hogwarts.

"Hogwarts," she said, "the last time I felt in control was when we were at Hogwarts."

"Now play the memories forward."

Bella re-lived the arranged marriage with Lestrange, her wedding night, the fear, the blood, the numbness. After the nuptials the not-her character took over and developed into the sociopath legend that became Bellatrix Lestrange. Evidently Sirius was seeing her memories as well.

"The Maiden's Blood ritual," He said gently as he could, "used to bind your will to that of the man who took your innocence.

"Your mind hasn't been your own since you were a sixteen year old bride."

"Four years married to that monster, thirteen years in Azkaban, more than half my life wasted," she sobbed, "_wasted_!"

"I knew something was off after you returned from your honeymoon, you were not the Bella I knew and loved. My Bella was young and vivacious, loved a good laugh and brought joy to her friends and family. You had gone totally Goth Girl, and seemed to delight in other people's pain and suffering."

"I wish to God and the Goddess that there was a fiery pit!" she seethed.

"Not to sound trite, but the seeds we plant in life become the fruits of our afterlife. I've been a son-of-a-bitch in my time, and I mean that quite literally, but that wasn't my whole life. My shortcomings became naught but weeds that diminished some of the joy of my sojourn on Earth.

"Rudolphus and Rabastian and Tom and most of the other death-eaters, however, never knew true joy, or love, or kindness and so never planted those seeds. To them this field is a festering swamp and the thought of what lies beyond _terrifies_ them.

"Here in the afterlife we are confronted with our own life choices. For some it is unbearably painful to watch, for others it's a pure joy. Most of us have something of a balance. As I said, parts of my life were kind of hard to look back upon, others less so. If you stop off in the next village you'll see James and Lily Potter sitting to tea with Severus Snape. They are thanking him for protecting Harry inasmuch as he could. Sev and I buried the hatchet, and not in each other's skulls, because his last act on Earth was to help my godson.

"This place is about completion. We can find closure here. I waited for you because I knew you would need a guide; I know you have a choice to make."

"What choice?"

"You can go back. You'll be changed, outwardly you'll be a creature of the night – you'll have little resemblance to the late, un-lamented Bellatrix Lestrange. Inside you'll be Bella, the girl I lost when our grandmother agreed to the marriage contract.

"Or?" She asked.

"Or we can just keep walking, no one gets tired here."

"If I choose to go back, will you go with me?" she asked, hopefully.

He shook his head sadly, "no Bella dear, but I'll be here waiting for you when you come through again."

"Will it be a terribly long wait?" she asked.

"Time has no meaning here. Back on Earth you have just fallen and your body is being taken to an empty classroom in Hogwarts. Or it's already three day's later and you're about to wake up in your tomb. It just doesn't matter.

"You may live to be a thousand years old and I'll still be sitting here waiting for you when you return. Time isn't spent or lost or wasted here, it just _is_."

"I can stay here?" She asked.

"If you want, it's up to you."

They walked for a while. "If I go back, will I still be evil?"

Sirius shrugged, "If that is your choice."

"But I'll be a dark creature." She mused.

"Dark is not the same as evil, Cousin. Just look at Remus Lupin. He's a beautiful human being who just happens to be a werewolf."

"Was." She said, a little sadly. "I killed him."

"Did you now?" Sirius asked, "Did you use silver?"

"No, but-"

"Funny thing about werewolves," he said, as if thinking aloud, "especially this close to a full-moon. Devilishly hard to kill you know."

"He's alive?" she said, incredulously.

"Yes, and in great pain. In his mind he's responsible for the death of his wife."

"But _I_ killed my niece," she said, her lip quivering, "He must know this."

"Bellatrix Lestrange killed Nymphadora, not you."

"Sure looked like me." She said sadly.

"Remus is very confused right now, and not in his right mind – you can relate to that. You could help him, as a favor to me?"

"He'll just rip my head off and I'll be back on this road before you know it." She said with a ghost of a smile.

"Then what will you have lost?" Sirius said, grinning.

"What must I do?"

He pulled Bella into a gentle embrace, kissed her forehead and said, "Awake, and arise."


	3. Chapter 2: Bella Rises

Chapter 2 – Bella Rises

Bella opened her eyes and saw the deep grey silk lining of her own coffin's lid. It didn't even occur to her to panic – she felt no claustrophobia, no fear of the dark, no fear of death for that matter. Been there, done that.

She gave the lid a tentative little push and the top half of the lid opened easily. The bottom half, however was latched. She found that slightly annoying. Why secure the bottom half of the lid and leave the top completely unlocked? The living could be so inconsiderate.

She chuckled as she imagined the sight of herself in her burial gown squirming and pushing herself out of the top half of her coffin. How undignified.

A vampire rising should be an awesome sight, the lid creaking open, a beautifully aristocratic lady rising with preternatural grace, stepping gracefully out of her resting place.

"Oh well," she thought, "nothing to do but to do it." Saying this she shimmied out of the box looking more like a woman pushing her corsets down to step out of the restricting garments than a beautifully savage dark creature.

"Thank the Goddess there was no one here to see that."

"Don't worry dear, I won't tell."

Bella hissed like a cat, spun on the spot and froze. In the darkest corner of her mausoleum stood a stunning pale lady in dark velvet robes, a traveling cloak flung carelessly over her left shoulder. She was tall, thin, and aristocratic with sharp, perfectly symmetrical features like those of an exquisite china doll. Black hair but for a single lock of purest white framed her perfectly proportioned face. Impossibly large almond-shaped eyes the color of black diamonds were set just above her turned up nose. Her full blood-red lips smiled over a delicate, almost pointed chin. She wore a black velvet choker around her neck set with a cameo depicting a soaring raven.

"This," she thought to herself, "is what a creature of the night _should_ look like!"

"Why thank you Granddaughter, that's very kind."

"Did I say that out loud?" Bella asked, chagrined.

"Not to worry dear, you'll find people won't be able to help but voice their thoughts around you too. It's a gift."

"Granddaughter?" Bella asked.

"More like great grand-niece with twelve "greats." I and your maternal ancestor walked the Earth as mortal witches in the mid to late fourteen hundreds. Ruth Shakespeare was my younger sister; I swore to take care of her. Late one night, as we were returning home from a long day at market we were set upon by three vampires. Two witches can hold three vampires at bay for a while, but not indefinitely. We had them stalemated, but the vampires knew we couldn't hold them off until dawn. I realized it too so I made a magically binding oath. They could do with me whatever they would if they let my sister go free.

"Ruth refused to go, she begged and wept and pleaded for me to reconsider. But the oath was binding to all parties involved and just past midnight my sister was compelled to go home.

"The vampires, two females and a young male, were so taken by my courage and self-sacrifice that they decided to turn me rather than just feed on me. If I'd only known then what I know now."

"What do you mean?"

"Vampires seldom kill, what would be the point? They take enough blood to make a meal and then use vampiric mind-magic to confound the victim so that he or she never knows what happened. Of course, the exchange of blood is a very intimate act, so many times, more often than not; our food becomes enamored with us. This has given rise to the legend of the succubus and the incubus."

"So the vampires would have had a meal and then set you on your way?" Bella asked.

"Pretty much." The dark lady agreed, "Of course they would have shagged our brains out as well, but that's neither here nor there, the point is my sister and I never were in any actual danger."

"So you would have to be Eliza Shakespeare?"

The lady bowed and smiled, "I see my reputation precedes me. May I ask how?"

"My cousin, Sirius, once told me about you."

Eliza nodded, "Come, you must be hungry."

"Will we look for, um, people to drink from?"

"Later." The lady explained, "You must feed now or you'll drain the first person you see dry. That would be bad for human-vampire relations."

Eliza wandlessly conjured a crystal goblet, setting it to hover before her. She extended the little finger of her right hand. Bella saw that finger's nail tapered to a point so that it looked more like a fang than a fingernail. Eliza punctured her left wrist right at the pulse point, letting her blood flow into the goblet.

Bella never had been squeamish at the sight of blood - whether hers or anyone else's. If anything she looked at the goblet with the same relish that she felt when offered rich, dark chocolate.

"Hey, I still want chocolate!" she said, somewhat surprised. "Chocolate and red wine; is that normal for us?"

"Quite," the elder vampire said as she handed Bella the goblet, "cheers darling."

Bella sipped. Tentatively at first, then with more gusto, she handed the goblet back as if to say "more?"

"Patience darling, we will both feed. That was just enough to take the edge off your hunger – an amuse buche, if you will." Eliza beckoned Bella to follow.

They walked out of the mausoleum. Bella squinted and shaded her eyes.

"It's so bright out here!"

"Yes we are terribly sensitive to light; over the past few decades it has become more and more difficult to avoid them. First the gaslights, then the electric lamps; many of our kind wear dark lenses to filter out very bright lights, but then we lose our ability to see in the dark."

Bella assumed that they had stepped out into the afternoon sun, but all she saw was a thin crescent moon low in the evening sky. The brightest lights came from the city around them, glaring electric lamps of every description and all too, too bright.

In the lights of the city she could clearly see colors, brighter and more vivid than any she had seen before. Eliza's gown and traveling cloak were both deep crimson. Her own gown, which she assumed to be charcoal grey in the no-light of her mausoleum, was actually deep purple. She looked at her companion.

"Where are we going?"

"To dinner."

They walked down a narrow, dark alley, then turned to a non-descript set of metal double doors, where they waited.

The doors opened of their own accord and the lady's were treated to the sight of a beautifully appointed sitting room which opened into an equally exquisite dining area.

"Madame Bard," a small, elderly man in tails greeted them, "it has been too long!"

"Ian!" Eliza enthused, "how have you been?"

"I am a grandfather now, please don't make me take out the pictures, we'll be all night in the sitting room. Come, you look famished and I have just the thing tonight."

The main dining room was set around a raised dais on which a single harp rested. There were no tables on the floor, all the seating appeared to be behind curtained booths. Dark woods, polished to a high gloss reflected the muted lamplight. Thick dark carpets muffled their footsteps.

Ian led the ladies to one of the larger booths and Bella was surprised to see couches and a low coffee table, but no dining table, no chairs. She cast a questioning look in Eliza's direction.

"My Grand-niece has been traveling a long time and is very hungry."

"Hmmm, something Mediterranean I think, Italian or Greek, perhaps?"

"I'd like Italian," Eliza agreed, "but I think Miss Bella should avoid garlic until she regains her strength."

"Of course Madame, may I suggest a 1988 Montepulciano d'Abruzzo?"

"I will leave everything in your capable hands, Ian darling."

The little man blushed at the praise and excused himself.

"Such a darling little man, don't let his size fool you, he's a very talented companion – I was quite smitten with him thirty years ago. He had the one quality that we find most alluring."

"Stamina?"

Eliza laughed, "That too darling. No, Ian could say no."

"No?"

"Oh yes, you'll see that after an endless parade of men and women who will do anything, and I mean _anything_ for you darling, that it's refreshing to be refused from time to time."

"I offered to turn him, I still would if he would let me, but he tells me he'll be content to see his loved ones on the other side sooner rather than later."

Bella thought of Sirius in the Elysian Fields and nodded, truly understanding.

The haunting strains of harp music charmed the intimate booth as Ian returned with the bottle. With practiced ease he removed the foil then the cork. He poured a small taste through a complex gurgling carburetor – "to mellow the wine, just a touch." As he closed the blade of his foil cutter he accidentally nipped the end of his thumb.

"Oh bother," he said with a wink, then let two drops of his blood drop into the wineglass before he offered it to Eliza, "well, no sense in wasting it."

Eliza smiled, her affection for the old man very obvious. "You don't fool me you old reprobate; you know what your essence does to me!"

Ian poured a small sip into the sommelier's cup that he wore on a chain about his neck.

"Old times?"

"The best times." She toasted in return, and then sipped her wine.

Ian excused himself saying, "Dinner will be here shortly. Please enjoy the wine."

Bella sipped the ruby red Italian and smiled appreciatively. "Excellent."

Just then two young men and one girl, college age from the look of them entered and bowed.

"Ah," Eliza clapped, "dinner!"


	4. Chapter 3: Dinner for Two

Chapter 3 – Dinner for Two

"Kali spera ladies. My name is Alyssa; I am from Souda Bay, Crete. May I introduce Nicolai, from Athens and for Lady Bard, Michelangelo from Syracusa, Sicily. You will be our only patrons this evening."

"Oh my," Bella couldn't help herself; she could feel herself preparing to feed. Her canines extended past her lower lip and she salivated. She looked to Eliza for guidance. She felt reassured to see her ancestress was in a similar state of arousal.

"Keep your wits about you darling, if you drain your dinner dry we'll never be allowed back, and that would be a tragedy."

The older vampire led her main course to the chase lounge where he, well, lounged. The young Italian smiled into her eyes and unfastened the two top buttons of his thin white cotton shirt. He tilted his head back and to the left exposing well defined veins to his client for the evening.

Eliza's jawbone made an audible popping sound as it dislocated, allowing her to open her mouth preternaturally wide. Her tongue extended well beyond that of a normal human's and ended in a soft fleshy point. The older vampire traced a line with the tip of her tongue from her meal's collarbone to the shell of his ear. As she sunk her fangs into the juncture of Michelangelo's neck and shoulder the girl, Alyssa, led Bella to Nicolai.

"Ian told us that you were very hungry," the girl said, "that is why we are both here. I will be your second course tonight."

Bella smiled and nodded, "I understand," she said as reassuringly as she could.

Nicolai's fragrance was that of olive oil, cardamom and lemon. Bella touched the tip of her distended tongue to his neck and tasted sweet vanilla. As she sank her fangs into his jugular she was careful to make neat incisions and not waste a single drop of his precious blood.

They moaned as one as she drank hungrily. The young Greek gave of himself completely. Bella couldn't help but caress his chest as she fed. His nipples were hard little pebbles beneath the Egyptian cotton shirt. Her hand traveled downward to cup his manhood, granite hard and straining against its durance vile.

"Eliza said this was a very intimate act," she thought to herself. Without breaking contact she placed one knee on the cushion beside his waist then swung the other over to straddle her meal, pushing her wet sex against his pulsing member. The thin layers of fabric between them only heightened the sensations they felt as they ground themselves together.

"My lady?" Bella, feeling that oh so familiar tingle of an impending climax, heard Alyssa calling as if from very far away; she was so close, so _close_!

"My lady, please!" Bella groaned and released Nicolai's neck. She did grind into his erection one more time, forcing him to come in his trousers. She felt a thrill of pleasure that radiated from her sex outward.

Alyssa placed a small gauze bandage on Nicolai's puncture wounds which seeped blood (later the newly-turned vampiress would learn to deal with the anti-coagulant in her saliva). The young girl led Bella to the other chase and reclined, but rather than expose her neck she placed one foot on the floor and the other on the lounge. Her long white skirt, slit to the hip, opened, revealing gorgeous long legs and white lace barely-there knickers.

"If it pleases you my lady, I prefer to have you feed from my femoral artery."

"Oh I think that would be lovely, Alyssa."

Bella kneeled on the cushion that Alyssa had placed on the carpet for that purpose and then leaned over her prone second course. Alyssa's aroma was like cinnamon and cloves. Bella licked the inside of the young girl's thigh from her knee to the lace alleged under garment, she tasted honey at first, then as she got closer to the juncture of the girl's legs, saffron. Alyssa responded by opening her thighs further to give the vamiress easier access.

Bella found the perfect spot, just below the juncture of thigh and pudendum and sank her fangs into the girl's delicious, soft yet firm flesh. Bella's delicious meal shivered in pleasure and began to drench the gusset of her knickers in arousal. The vampiress placed the girl's ankle against her sex, and then trapped it there by closing her thighs around it. Alyssa began to rotate her ankle to rub against Bella's arousal.

Bella reached up with her left hand to caress her entrée's right breast while with her right hand she stroked Alyssa's sex through the thin, lacy knickers. Alyssa groaned and reached down, frantically pulling the gusset of her panties to one side granting her client full access. Bella slid one, then two fingers into the young girl's warmth and expertly brought her to completion as she herself climaxed again.

After a short while Bella found herself sated. Her belly was full and she'd climaxed more in the span of a few minutes than she had in the past seventeen years of her life. She laid her head against Alyssa's thigh while the young girl stroked her hair.

"That was wonderful my dear," Bella cooed.

"It was my pleasure to serve you my lady."

Bella lifted her head and saw Eliza rocking back and forth against her recumbent dinner. Bella thought that she and Nicolai must have looked something like that a little earlier in the evening. The difference was Michelangelo's trousers were below his knees and Eliza's knickers were dangling from her right ankle.

Eliza looked dreamily over at Bella and said in a husky voice, "come and taste this."

Bella seemed to float over to her ancestress.

"Just a nip, here," she said, turning the Italian's head slightly to the side.

Bella sank her fangs into the young man's neck and sipped experimentally, then withdrew quickly.

"It's hot!" she exclaimed.

"That's the garlic," Eliza explained dreamily, even as she rode her partner, "after a while you'll develop a taste for it, but for now it's best to avoid it. Have a little wine to get the taste out of your mouth."

Alyssa appeared at her elbow and offered a crystal goblet.

"Thank you my dear."

The server bowed and went back to the lounge.

"Would you care for more, my lady?"

Bella looked at Nicolai and saw his eyes sparkling, his ardor showing no sign of flagging.

"Oh yes, my dears," she said, deftly stepping out of her own knickers, "definitely!"

Kali spera, a phonetic spelling of the Greek, "Good evening." I have a weakness for olive skinned, dark haired, dark eyed Eastern Mediterranean girls – I very nearly married one. I often imagine how different my life would have been. Sigh.

A short chapter, I know. But as they say, it's not the length that counts but the skill. . .


	5. Chapter 4: Q & A

Chapter 4 – Q & A

Just past midnight the three young people thanked their clients profusely for a thoroughly enjoyable experience, then excused themselves. Ian entered the room with a small tray of cheese and a choice of port or sherry.

"You've outdone yourself again, Ian darling." Eliza purred. "Please endow all three, just call my solicitor, Katharina, and she will arrange it."

"You're very generous my Lady Bard."

"I appreciate good service," her eyes twinkled teasingly, "you know that of all people!"

The old man smiled and blushed.

"Have you reconsidered my offer, darling?"

Ian made himself comfortable before answering.

"I am honored, as always my lady. I know that I only have a precious few years left, if that. I'm not a wizard, not even a squib so I won't enjoy a very long life. But what I've been given I have enjoyed, immensely." He raised his glass to Eliza, "Due largely to the gift of your patronage my Lady.

"I just can't imagine outliving my grandchildren, not aging as they do. I don't know how, but I know I will see my beloved Arista in a short while and together we'll wait for you to join us.

"As much as I adore you my Lady, I beg you to not offer your gift again. I have become an old man, and a little fearful of death. I may not be able to resist again, and I know in my heart that I would make a sad excuse for a vampire."

Bella glanced at her ancestress and was startled to see a single blood-red tear tracing her cheek.

"Damn you Ian," she said, her tone loving and kind, "you know you're the only man alive who can make me cry."

Ian produced a small handkerchief and tenderly dabbed Eliza's cheek.

A small voice in Bella's mind said, "Reassure him."

"Ian," she said, "there is a road that winds through the Elysian Fields, and along that road are many resting places where those that have gone on before wait for us. For them the wait is not long, and then together you will walk, or perhaps wait for others. For those who have been worthy of love it is a beautiful place."

Ian beamed at the young vampiress.

"I will miss you darling," Eliza said, a hint of a sob in her voice. "Will you wait for me? I may be a terribly long time."

Bella remembered what Sirius had told her and smiled.

Eliza stood and gathered the little old man into her arms; his head nestled between her breasts. "I miss you too much already darling, but I will respect your wishes."

Bella recognized the farewell for what it was and stood to follow her ancestress out. As they walked they talked.

"Was Arista his wife?"

"Very nearly."

"She died." It wasn't a question.

"She was killed by zealots." Eliza said bitterly.

"Zealots?"

"Vampire hunters." She explained, "Women who call themselves "slayers" and their accomplices, the "watchers." They hound us, hunt us and kill us, and then boast of their persecution as if it's a noble calling. Honestly, these people spend all their lives studying our kind and yet do not understand us."

"Wait, you mean Arista was a vampire?"

"Oh yes, a young girl I turned rather than see wither away from a rare blood disease." She pondered, "well, not so rare anymore, it was human immunovirus and I understand it's attacking many of the muggles.

"She was young, pretty and homeless. She made her living the only way she could given her circumstances, and contracted the disease. I couldn't bear to see her suffer so my choices were to kill her or turn her. I turned her.

"She became enamored with Ian, and he loved her, but he loved her like a daughter. Something died in him when she was taken from us."

"So we're immune from AIDS?" Bella asked.

"From all blood diseases, leukemia, sickle-cell, Chlamydia, herpes, syphilis, you name it, we can't get it."

"Wait, wait. He has grandchildren. Is he married?"

"He was, but the bitch left him. Left him to care for a son and daughter, he worked himself half to death before I found him and took him under my wing, so to speak.

"We were lovers in the best sense of the word, he would put the babies to bed and I would come to him, set a few silencing spells around the apartment and, well. . ."

"Rut like stoats?"

Eliza smiled, "Oh yes, but there was more. In true love there has to be more than just animal passion. In gratitude, I set him up in business. He re-paid my initial investment within three years. There is another restaurant on the other end of his building. The back rooms are by special appointment only. He recruits wait staff based on merit and need. Our servers tonight have the potential to become great scholars, but are desperately poor. Thanks to our conservative government, the poor just keep getting poorer."

"So when you say you've "endowed" them it means?"

"Full ride scholarships darling, including room and board."

"Must be expensive."

"One good thing about living as long as we do, even mediocre investments pay off spectacularly well."

"I refuse to believe you would invest in anything mediocre."

"Well I did buy IBM at one pound and six a share back in the forties.

"Getting back to Ian, darling man, his kids know he runs a successful restaurant here in London where he works every night. He was always there for them during the day, and he endured their adolescence better than most. Now his son is a chemist in Kensington and his daughter is in Queen's College studying medicine."

"Tell me about the Zealots, the Slayers."

"You've never met such a bunch of self-righteous bigots in your life."

"I've been a death eater," Bella said, not proud of the fact.

"These gits are worse. They go around driving stakes in us, or decapitating us or burning us without so much as a by-your-leave, then congratulate themselves on a job well done."

"Can they be killed?"

"Oh yes, the watchers are human, the slayers however are different."

"How so?"

"If you kill one another takes her place."

"_Her_ place?"

"Oh yes, the slayers are always girls just past adolescence – I think that's to make them more malleable, more controllable."

"How can a teenage girl kill a vampire?"

"Magic."

"You mean they're witches."

"No, just magically enhanced. They sense our presence; they are faster than we are and at least as strong. They are programmed with a serious hatred of all things "dark.""

"Aren't we dark creatures?"

"Has no one ever told you that dark is not the same as evil?"

Bella had to smile at that, those were almost exactly the words Sirius had used to reassure her.

"How many slayers are there in London?"

"None."

"How many in Great Britian?"

"None."

"So why are we worried?"

"Because the slayer and her cohorts have the most annoying habit of appearing at the most inopportune times possible."

"So if I'm not punctured with a piece of wood, beheaded or set afire I can expect to live how long?"

"The most ancient of us are fifty centuries old."

"So we are essentially immortal, what else?"

"We are fast, so fast that in the space of the blink of a human eye we can cross a large room. We heal quickly, even to the point of regenerating limbs. We are stronger than mountain trolls. We are natural animagi, wolf and bat."

"Bat?" Bella asked, incredulously.

Eliza transformed into a very large bat, then back again.

"Was that a vampire bat?"

"Of course."

"Indeed, what else?"

"We have a natural talent for mind magic, a combination of confunding and obliviating. We also release pheromones that enthrall humans."

"Ah yes, dinner," Bella recalled with relish, "and the disadvantages?"

"We are very sensitive to light, especially sunlight."

"Will sunlight kill us?"

"No, just give us a very bad sunburn, I recommend SPF fifty or better, oh, and very dark glasses."

"So we can walk about in daylight?"

"Yes, it weakens us but will not kill us. Well, I suppose it could but we'd have to lie naked in the sun at high noon in summer."

"What about crucifixes?"

"What about them?"

"Don't they repel us?"

"A crucifix is two pieces of wood stuck together, granted, if you sharpen the end of one and use it to pierce our hearts we will die, but then again so would anyone else."

"How often do we have to feed?"

"At least once a week, we can go longer but then we get weak and become a danger to our food source.

Vampire legends completely ignore the laws of supply and demand. If we killed humans for food there would soon be no food left. If every human we fed from became a vampire then again, there would soon be no food left. We manage our food resources better than most humans do.

Just now you asked how often we have to feed; we only have to feed once a week, but should eat at least one small meal every other day. A ravenous vampire can't stop feeding until the food's heart stops. As I said earlier, this would be very bad for human-vampire relations."

"Anything you're not telling me?"

"The worst part."

"And that is?"

"It is often a solitary existence."

Bella was puzzled at that, "but you have friends, family, and" she looked back in the general direction of Ian's, "love."

"You'll see darling. You'll come to understand that we don't often seek out the company of other's such as ourselves. Truth be told we're a vain, shallow breed. Constantly comparing ourselves to other vampires – we tend to get a bit "catty" around each other.

"Those whom we turn become bound to us, that is, until they "outgrow" us. Honestly darling, it's like being in the presence of a hormonal adolescent when one of our minions decides to "leave the nest," as it were."

Bella nodded, she could tell she was already beginning to compare herself to her ancestress.

"And the rare few humans we become attached to wither and die in a pitiful few decades."

"I would think we could form groups, covens perhaps, for mutual protection." Bella mused.

"Very good darling, you've hit on the one thing that will knit a group of vampires into a community – enlightened self-interest. We do indeed form covens to serve our own interests. The reigning coven masters and mistresses are always the most powerful vampires in the coven."

"Not the oldest?" Bella asked.

"Age does not impart power my dear, you are already more powerful than half the ancient vampires I know simply because you were a witch first before you were turned."

Bella thought about her previous life, her unending search for power and shuddered.

"I think I'll be content to just live and let live in this new life." She said.

Eliza nodded, understanding the girl more than she let on.

Bella was startled by the little voice in her head again, "find Remus. Help him."

"Ancestress, I need to find someone, a friend of a friend."

"Your friend's friend will probably not know you darling, you will look different to humans – they will know that they know you from somewhere, but will not be able to recognize you as the Bellatrix from before."

"Believe me when I say that that is not a bad thing."

"Where do you need to go darling?"

"Hogwarts."


	6. Chapter 5: Back to Hogwarts

Chapter 5 – Back to Hogwarts

"Say what you will about Argus Filch," Minerva said to Filius, "but the man is no stranger to hard work."

The diminutive charms professor nodded in agreement as he watched the caretaker take on the role of gravedigger. Many of the casualties were without family and Filch took it upon himself to see to it that the dead were properly buried. The man had no magic save that of a powerful work ethic that kept him busy from dawn to well past dusk day after day, year in and year out.

"Isn't he due to retire soon?" Flitwick asked.

"Don't mention the "R" word around Mr. Filch unless you want an earful, Filius." McGonagall said with a chuckle. I think he wants to die on the job and then stay on as a castle ghost."

"Perhaps we can at least offer him an assistant, someone who can take over some of his duties?"

The old caretaker finished stitching a shroud, a black shroud – indicating the remains needed to be cremated before burial. Fenrir Greyback was in a black shroud, as was Professor Lupin. Nobody gave a damn about Greyback, but Lupin was loved and respected – his ashes would be given to the widow Tonks to be interred with her beloved husband and daughter.

"Damn shame about the Professor," Filch said to no one in particular, "decent enough sort."

He made a spur of the moment decision; he'd cremate the other werewolf first and then take care of the professor, lest his foul ashes taint those of a good man. He grunted in satisfaction then ordered the house elves to place the "Good Professor" in an empty classroom for the time being.

So it was that Remus Lupin woke in an empty classroom stitched inside a heavy canvas bag. He tore through the sailcloth easily enough owing to his werewolf enhanced strength and looked around the empty room. Ground floor, the windows swung easily outward. A short drop and he was on the ground headed for the forest. The forest offered protection, a hiding place. For you see, the mind of Remus Lupin was all wolf now.

As a human, Remus had known mostly pain and suffering, persecution and loss. The one bright spot in his life, his wife, fell to a barrage of killing curses and the werewolf's mind snapped. All manner of deadly spells as well as edged weapons, arrows and crossbow bolts rained down upon him and he didn't care, all that mattered was to kill as many wizards as possible – to keep killing until he could move no more. When he finally fell he was surrounded by the bodies of the dark wizards he had mangled with his bare hands. His last memory before darkness claimed him was of two dark violet eyes and a voice like a caress saying "I grant you release, my love."

A man would have died from any one of his dozen mortal wounds, but he wasn't a man. He was a wolf. And he would stay a wolf from now on – humanity meant pain, and he could choose to shuffle off his human form and stay a wolf forever.

He transformed, first into his anthropomorphic wolf-man appearance, then to the large grey wolf that was his preferred form. It didn't matter that the moon wasn't full; the wolf was always close to the surface. That was the reason he'd tried to push his beautiful Dora away, she never understood how close the wolf was at all times, how dangerous. Now she was dead. Dora was dead. He had placed himself in the path of a score of deadly spells but she still died. He was her alpha, he had failed to protect her, and for that reason she was dead.

He sat back and howled a mournful wail into the night.

Back in the castle Argus Filch gave careful instructions to the squad of house-elves at his command. "Go to the room where we put the good professor. Carry his shroud to the burning place and make sure nothing but ash is left."

The elves didn't know why the man wanted the shroud burned but they never questioned orders.

"You must be fucking joking!" Bella shouted shrilly.

Eliza smiled as she helped her grand-niece affix the suffibulum, the broach that held the pallum together at Bella's left shoulder.

"Language darling, what other reason would a stranger have for going to Hogwarts this week?"

"But a Vestal Virgin?" she asked, horrified, "who is going to believe that?"

"Have you not noticed, darling Bella? People see what they want to see, and right now a vestal virgin in her service decade will be a most welcome sight. You will be able to search out your friend's friend and do what you can for him. The infula will hide most of your features especially if you keep your eyes downcast. Just remember, dear, feed sparingly and in secret and for Hecate's sake keep your legs together while you're there."

Bella glared as her ancestress fit the infula (the headdress and shawl) that draped over her shoulders.

"Not coming with me Ancestress?"

"Not this time, Grand-niece. We can find each other again when you come back to London."

Eliza smoothed a non-existent wrinkle from Bella's ensemble then stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Bella's costume was perfect from her tied sandals to the violet trim of her simple gown, topped off with mantle and broach, headdress and shawl. The shawl kept her face in shadow and so neatly concealed her lack of pigmentation.

"Remember darling, the most convincing element of any disguise is attitude, yours needs to be servile and demure."

Bella suppressed a very un-vestal virgin like response and instead stuck a Madonna-like pose (that would be the Iconic figure, not the rock slut celebrity).

"Very nice darling, tell me all about it when you get back."

Bella determined her destination, the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, and deliberated on the feeling of apparating such a long distance dressed like a second century daughter of Vesta. In less than a second she arrived in front of the seedy bar feeling both stretched and squeezed as if through a very long hosepipe.

She walked the oft trod path to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and remembered the sense of awe she felt as an eleven-year-old girl seeing the castle for the first time. For Bella it was very much like coming home after a very long absence. It didn't matter that she had been there three days before – she had been there as someone else's puppet. Now she was back on her own and she burned with a desire to set things right.

The grey wolf that was Remus caught her scent; it was the heady fragrance of a powerful alpha bitch. She would be his, and no one, human or not, would stand between him and this bitch.

He kept to the tree line and would have been hard to see in the daylight; in the dark he was invisible. He caught her scent again and moved swiftly and silently to keep her upwind as he walked the edge of the forest. Peering down the road he saw a lone figure walking purposefully toward the castle. A lone _human_ figure.

That made no sense; the human had the scent of one of his own kind.

His own kind.

A shape-shifter.

The moon would be full in a very few nights, she would still be here. She would have to run in the woods and he would be there.

Waiting.

The lone figure stopped, then turned to face him. His dark amber eyes met hers, glowing violet.

"She sees me!"

His animal brain wanted to flee back into the forest or to fling himself at her throat, but the human consciousness that remained made him curious enough to remain, transfixed.

Woman and wolf stared at each other for what felt like a very long time, as if time were made up of elongated ticks of the tower clock. Neither creature moved, or blinked. The spell was broken by the sound of a rat scurrying into the deep underbrush. The woman looked away for half a moment and when she looked back the wolf was gone.

Bella looked up at the moon, just past first quarter, waxing full in another four nights. It could have just been a grey wolf – then again, there hadn't been any true wolves in the British Isles for centuries. Some werewolves could transform regardless of the phase of the moon, so it could have been Lupin. Or it could have been another vampire. She shrugged and continued on to the castle.

Time would tell.

She passed through the gates, up the stairs to the main entrance and entered the great hall. Great hospital would have been a more apt description. Four dozen hospital beds, some curtained, were attended by groups of caregivers. Here and there were druid healers working side by side with brown-robed friars. Thankfully she could see no other Vestal Virgins attending the wounded.

Madame Pomfrey was having a spot of bother with a struggling patient.

"My eyes! My eyes! I can't see! Why can't I see?"

The good matron was about to stupefy the patient, a young townswoman by her dress when Bella placed her pale hand on the girl's forehead.

"Peace sister," she intoned, "be at peace."

The woman calmed, her ruined eyes trying to find the source of the soothing voice.

"Who?"

"I am Bellanca, a Daughter of Vesta, I'm here to help you."

"Can you help me see, Sister?"

Bella looked to Mme Pomfrey, who smiled and nodded.

"Yes my sister, but you must promise to cooperate with the healers; they are the ones with the skills to make you see again."

The woman nodded and settled back on her bed. Bella stayed and held her hand talking about Hogsmeade and her father's florist shop and the butcher's son and town life in general as the healers did their magic.

"Miss Potts, Margaret?" Poppy Pomfrey interrupted gently, "we need to bind your eyes now, it's very important that you do not remove the bandages for three days and three nights."

"Is it day or night now?" the young woman asked.

"Its two hours past sunset, sister." Bella said soothingly. "You'll be right as rain by the week's end.

"Would you like to drink something now?"

Margaret nodded and the healer handed Bella a small flask. Poppy watched in awe as the Vestal Virgin pressed the flask into Miss Potts' hand to guide it to the girl's lips.

"Hmmm, good," the patient said, "strawberries, Sister?"

"Yes, little sister," Bella confirmed, "Strawberries.

"Lay back and rest now, you've had a busy day, sleep."

Margaret's head touched the pillow and just as Bella said "sleep" the young girl sighed and lay still.

Poppy led Bella away from the sleeping girl.

"That was amazing, Sister. I've never seen a patient calm so quickly, you are a godsend, or in your case a goddess send. I can't thank you enough for coming."

"I had to Madame; I was compelled to journey here to help where I could."

Poppy nodded her understanding. Clerics, magic and otherwise had to follow their callings.

"I can give you a room for the night, Sister."

"I will not need to put anyone out Madame Healer; I would beg a small space to rest in the morning."

"Will you not rest after your long journey?"

"I will be here through the evening, Madame. I can rest during the day and tend our patients at night. My needs are simple and few. I need a responsibility as befitting a Daughter of Vesta." She seemed to think for a moment and then said "I will tend the fires in this hall until it is time for me to go. Further I must draw water from a spring for my early morning ritual."

"Of course," Poppy knew the traditional duties of Vestal Virgins included tending fires, as Vesta was Goddess of the Hearth. There are small rooms very convenient to the great hall. I will assign you one. Do you have any special needs?"

"As I will sleep mostly during daylight hours, may I beg a single candle and heavy curtains for the windows?" she asked.

"I will see to it, Sister."

Bella bowed in thanks and said "Now I will circulate and tend to those that I can, Madame Healer."

Poppy bowed in return.

Some of the injuries were grievous; she recognized a few of her own trademark cutting and burning curses. Those curses would leave horrible scars unless un-cursed by the witch or wizard who cast them. She walked up and down the rows of beds comforting where she could, calming where it was needed and feeding those who could eat.

Well past midnight the healers on call were showing signs of exhaustion. One by one Bella assumed their duties, sending them off to get some rest. By three AM she was the only healer working, but everyone was asleep, healing nicely. Bella took a sip of blood here and there, just a small mouthful where she could to keep her own strength up as she actively healed the curses she herself had inflicted on many of the patients.

As the first rays of the sun broke over the mountains to the east she sagged in exhaustion, the sunlight draining her of what energy reserves she had.

"Come along Sister," Poppy Pomfrey said, holding the vampiress up by her shoulders, "time for bed."

The Matron guided Bella into a windowless room with a small, comfortable looking cot. The only other furniture in the room was a wooden chair, a desk and a nightstand upon which was a washbasin, cloth and solitary ever-lit candle.

As the healer guided Bella into the room the vampiress thanked her, said good morning and closed the door. She lay down on top of the bedclothes arranging her clothing so that it wouldn't wrinkle or crease as she slept, then let oblivion take her.

"Poor thing," Poppy said as she left Bella's small room, "she worked so hard all night. I wouldn't be surprised if she slept the whole day."


	7. Chapter 6: Sister Bellanca, Ginny, Pansy

Chapter 6 – Sister Bellanca, Ginny, Pansy and Remus

The uppermost tip of the sun disappeared behind the mountains to the west of Hogwarts when Bella rose smoothly from her small pallet.

"Bellanca," she thought to herself, "I must think of myself as Sister Bellanca."

Several healers and their assistants were pleased to see the Daughter of Vesta glide into the great hall, the very picture of piety and compassion. Many begged her to share her healing techniques. Curses that should have been lethal or at the very least crippling and disfiguring were healed.

"It is my gift and my service," she explained, "I am only too happy to help where I can."

Madame Pomfrey led her to a curtained enclosure.

"I'm not sure anything can be done for this one," the older healer said, her voice breaking in sorrow.

Behind the curtain lay a young girl, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, fiery red hair splayed about the pillow where tender hands had brushed it.

"Most of the back of her head, along with her right brain has been burned away, Sister. She would not leave the battle, just as it looked like it was all over a death eater hit her with an acidic, flaming curse from behind.

"She may survive for a time, but she will never wake. She'll be locked in that body forever – imprisoned in her own mind."

"Should she not be moved to St. Mungo's, Mme Pomfrey?"

"They can do no more for her than I, Sister, and they are filled beyond capacity from this damned war."

Bellanca placed a hand on the girl's pale forehead. She was so white that the vamiress' bloodless hand did not contrast with the skin of the girl's face. She focused her mind-magic and found Ginny Weasley wandering lost in the wilderness.

"Can you tell me where I am?" The redheaded teen asked.

"Follow the path to the end of the forest, there you'll find a small cottage and the love of your life waiting for you."

As Ginny walked in her newly perceived reality Bella began to build a world the youngest Weasley could be happy in.

Over the next week Bella sat by Ginny's bedside for hours without end weaving a more complex, believable life history. The girl would marry the man of her dreams; together they would build a life together. They would have children, watch them grow and prosper, see them each off to Hogwarts, share their triumphs and tragedies. After a hundred years or so they would expire in each other's arms, more than ready to face the next great adventure.

It didn't really matter that it would all happen in the mind of a brain-damaged teenaged girl, to Ginny it would be real and she would be happy. Bella made sure it was a good life.

One evening Bella was startled by a pair of probing, intense green eyes. For a moment she panicked but her inner voice told her, "calm, be the center of calm here."

She rose to leave when the voice of Harry Potter, breaking with emotion, said "please stay Sister Bellanca, she is peaceful when you're here."

Potter was there, along with assorted Weasleys, Molly and Arthur, Ron, Bill and Fleur, George and Charlie. Hermione Granger stood to one side not clinging to any of the unattached Weasley boys or Harry Potter for that matter. Something about that seemed odd.

Eliza had told her that people wouldn't recognize her in her new vampiric form. Still she avoided Potter's direct gaze.

He sat on Ginny's other side and held her hand while Bella attended to her patient.

"Why not read to her, Mr. Potter?" Bella asked, having noticed the book in the young hero's hand.

"It's just a book of muggle fairy tales, the Brother's Grimm," he said. "She once told me that she'd never heard of Rumpelstiltskin, or Sleep – Sleeping Beauty." He began to sob.

"Why not start with that one then?" Bella suggested, "If you all take turns reading then she can be comforted by all your voices."

With a monumental effort to get his voice to obey Harry began, "Once upon a time. . ."

In Ginny's world she stood in the open doorway as her husband read one of his favorite muggle fairy tales to their dark haired daughter and shared the warmth and love of the moment.

"Life is good," she thought contentedly.

The shell that had been Ginny Weasley gave up the ghost at the end of the week, but she died with a smile on her face, welcoming her love with her dying breath.

"Harry?"

Harry kissed her still warm lips and then fell into a giant Weasley family embrace.

The vestal virgin covered Ginny and promised to prepare the body for burial, then looked to the window as the lone, mournful cry of a wolf split the night.

"Remus," she whispered.

In the days that followed many Hogwarts students suddenly found themselves orphaned and broke. The plague of the dark mark decimated pure-blood wizarding Britain. This left dozens of underage children with no family that could or would take them in. Some of these once proud and pampered pure-bloods were reduced to begging in Knockturn Alley, easy prey for the lowlifes that gravitated there. Pansy Parkinson saw a man she thought she recognized, a disreputable scrounger of indeterminate age who had never taken the dark mark, but had served the Dark Wanker nonetheless. Kenneth Lahr was an opportunist, the type of human vulture who seemed to profit from the misfortunes of others, he also liked little girls. The old degenerate was dragging a sobbing, obviously frightened child by the arm. The girl wore a dress that was two sizes too small and had obviously seen better days. She couldn't have been more than eight years old. Pansy stood in front of the unlikely pair and asked the girl "what's the matter?"

"Mind yer own bint" Lahr growled menacingly, "this one's commin' wit me!"

Pansy pulled her wand and pointed it between the old man's eyes "I was asking' the princess here, d'you mind?"

"My b-brother, h-he he sold me to this man!"

Pansy's eyes narrowed, "what?"

"He wanted some stuff, an no one was helping us, we begged and begged and everyone just ignored us and Will says he can't keep me no more and, and this man says I'm worth thirty Galleons and, and, and . . ." at this point the howling child collapsed into a heap.

"Will, Will . . . Will Farington" Pansy asked, "is your name Farington?"

The little girl looked up and nodded "Alison, Alison Farington" she said timidly.

"She's commin wit me, I paid f'her!"

Pansy realized too late that she had allowed herself to get distracted by the distraught child and the man now had his wand on her, he smiled a crooked grin and said, "I know just the thing, Imperio!"

She felt herself go all over calm and contented, what business was it of hers that some old perv was plying the trade in little girl flesh?

In spite of the compulsion Pansy began to tremble in fury, how dare he? This child was not chattel to be bought and sold and used and abused and Goddess knows what else!

The man saw her shaking off the effects of the Imperius curse and leveled his wand again, "oh no," he said, "can't have you goin' on about me business here, Avada -"

"Expeliarmus!"

His wand went flying as a furious Millicent Bulstrode bore down on Pansy's assailant.

Little Alison stumbled to Pansy and clung to her as if she were drowning and the Slytherin girl was her only life line.

"Let's see, you used one unforgivable and were about use another one on me girlfriend here, and you're draggin' this child away against her will. They're gonna' love your arse in Azkaban!"

"You got me all wrong, I was jus' gonna' take care of the little nipper is all!"

"Keep your wand on him, Millie" Pansy instructed as she pointed her own wand straight up, firing off red sparks, the universal signal of mages in distress. Fortunately there was an auror just one street over.

The MDLE officer listened to Pansy, Millicent and Allison.

"Where is his wand?" the auror asked.

Millicent handed the officer the wizard's wand.

"Pirori incantatum." The auror's eyes grew flinty as she focused on the depraved string of prior incantations.

"Four unforgivables and a nearly completed AK." She said in a calm, dangerous tone, "you will be tried, but I think it will be short. Do you know the penalty for willful and unlawful use of multiple unforgiveables?"

The small pasty man shook his head, and kept shaking it as if to deny this day had ever happened.

"A short walk through the veil," she put him in a full body bind and levitated him away, "but first, I'm going to make sure you spend some quality time with some of our more imaginative inmates. They love pedophiles there, truly."

As the officer levitated Lahr away she turned to the little girl, "come along Alison" the auror gently ordered.

"Do you mind if I look after her?" Pansy asked the officer.

"I should take her to Family Services. . ." she saw the pleading in Pansy's eyes, and more importantly, Alison's eyes as the young girl clung to the older one.

The auror thought of all the children in the system now, not neglected, but under-served. She studied the Parkinson girl; she seemed to have some means of support.

"Can you take care of her?" the auror asked.

"Of course!"

Millicent looked sideways at Pansy but assured the officer that both she and Pansy had the wherewithal to care for the child.

When the auror left Millicent asked, "Well, do you have enough to care for her?"

"Yeah, my trust fund wasn't confiscated, if I'm careful, I can get by, and you know what they say, two can live as cheaply as one."

"Oi!" the three girls turned to face a boy, "Whot you doin' wit my sister? You dykes or summat? You wanna buy her?"

Millicent had had enough of this little shite and with a feral growl smashed the side of his head with her rather large fist.

Allison stormed over to her older brother who lay crumpled on the ground and began to kick him, shouting, "You bastard! You're no brother of mine! I cast you out of my family!"

Millie looked at Pansy pointed to the stunned Will Farington and asked, "What should we do with this one?"

Pansy looked back and grinned evilly.

Will Farington came to his senses with his head down on a wooden surface that reeked of old beer and spirits. He was sitting on a barstool and someone had a hand firmly planted on his bum.

He sat up straight and was shocked at his reflection in the bar mirror.

He was wigged and painted up like a cheap whore. He was in a skirt that was so short that it barely covered his arse, which was being fondled by the large, smelly man sitting on the stool next to his.

"S-stop it! I'm not a tart! I'm not even a girl!" he said, pulling down the top of his narrow tube top, exposing his grapefruit sized breasts. He was so shocked at the sight that it took him a few seconds to pull the knit top back in place.

He tentatively reached under the skirt he was wearing to see if his "block and tackle" were still in place. With an enormous sigh of relief he felt the familiar male protruding bits.

"Look mate!" he said to the bloke who still had a grip on his bum, "I told you, I'm not a whore, see? I'm a boy!"

"Makes no nevah mind t'me darlin'" the burly drunk said tucking Will Farington under his arm like a sack of flour. "I'm still gonna fuck you!"

Millicent and Pansy were treating Alison to lunch at Fortescue's

"Y'know," Millicent said, reaching for another chip, "there are lots of kids like Alison here."

"I know," Pansy agreed, hugging the child close, "any ideas?"

"Well . . ."

Bella took a large water jug, stepped out of the castle, and headed for the forbidden forest. Near the tree line she removed her robes and concentrated on her wolf form. She was a large pure white she-wolf. Unlike Remus, though, she still had her human intellect to guide her.

She took in the world through a combination of vampire and wolf senses. The moon shone bright enough overhead that, to her wolf's eyes, it may as well have been mid-afternoon. She spotted the large grey wolf in the thicket, gnawing on a freshly killed boar.

Bella did the lupine equivalent of clearing her throat and was amazed at how quickly the werewolf was on his feet, hackles raised.

Werewolf strength was legendary, and a fully fledged werewolf could kill one such as herself in spite of her vampric strength and speed.

As the massive lycan slowly began to circle Bella's white wolf form she thought to herself, "maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all."


	8. Chapter 7: Becoming Remus, Again

Chapter 7 – Becoming Remus, Again.

Lupin was furious, another wolf, another shape-shifter had surprised him as he enjoyed the warm meat of his fresh kill. He saw red as he began to circle the interloper, looking for an advantage. He caught a whiff of something human just to his right and in less than a blink was tearing and shredding the human robes.

"Great," Bella thought, "so much for Sister Bellanca, oh well, she was too good to last anyway."

Remus turned his attention back to Bella. She flattened her body on the ground and rolled onto her side, tilting her head back to expose her throat.

The werewolf's anger and aggressiveness washed away in an instant. He walked over to the passive bitch and lightly clamped his teeth around her windpipe.

"Mine!" he said with that simple gesture.

He sat back and she rolled over onto her stomach looking up at him.

"He does make a gorgeous specimen as a wolf." She thought. "But Sirius wanted me to help him, and I don't think he meant for me to keep Remus as a pet."

Lupin went back to the boar's carcass, tore off a tender chunk of liver, and brought it to Bella, placing it on the ground in front of her.

"How lovely," she thought, genuinely touched by his generous gift. In her present form she found the raw liver delicious. Together they ran through the forest nipping at the heels of unicorns and avoiding the territories of acromantulae and centaurs. Remus felt a joy he hadn't felt since his early days at Hogwarts, running with the marauders on nights when the moon was full.

Bellies full the two wolves curled around each other to settle in for a nice nap before morning.

When morning came Remus found himself being cuddled by cold naked flesh. Human flesh. His animal self wanted to run or attack, but his human intellect prevailed. He got up carefully, took a few steps back and began the slow, painful process of returning to his human form – especially difficult since he'd abandoned it three weeks before.

After an age he stood naked in the morning sun looking down at a pale, equally naked woman's body. At first he thought he had killed her in the night but then his wolf senses told him she was resting, not injured and certainly not dead.

He got down on his hands and knees and studied the pale woman.

Impossibly light skin, coal black hair so dark it seemed to absorb all light. Strong sharp nails, not claws but not the dainty, brittle things found on most human women. He took a deep breath and realized where he'd caught that scent before, years ago.

Vampire.

He should let the wolf take him again, kill the vampire before she had a chance to enthrall him, make him her slave.

But she could have done that last night. She could have stayed in her human vampire form and simply summoned him to be her slave and do her bidding. Instead she chose to be his companion, his bitch in the night.

She made a small mewing sound as a shaft of sunlight touched her alabaster skin. Remus gently lifted and carried her deeper into the thicket so that she could sleep comfortably. He made a bed of broad leaves and grasses and laid her still-curled form upon it. She looked like a sleeping cat, very contented. Then he went to find one or two of his caches.

When the marauders roamed these woods a quarter of a century ago they created little caches of food and clothing so that, should Remus wake and be alone, he could make himself presentable before returning to the castle.

"Thank the laughing god for preservation charms," he said as he pulled on the wizard's robe and cloak. He carried another set of clothing to make the vampiress more presentable when she woke at sunset. He returned to the thicket and was amazed to see her sitting cross-legged on the mattress of leaves and grass completely unconcerned by her lack of clothing.

He handed her the robe and cloak, which she took gratefully.

"I would transfigure these into something more, um, amenable if I had my-"

Remus handed her the wand he'd found among her shredded and bloodied clothing.

"Oh," she said, "thank you."

"You're quite welcome."

She cast the transfiguration spell making the formless robe and cloak into something breathtaking.

The school robes became an emerald green, low cut gown with a lace bodice, the cloak a matching green cape.

"Beautiful my lady Vampiress," Remus said with a slight bow.

"Very gallant my lord Were," she returned the bow with a formal curtsey, "may I ask why I'm still alive?"

"Because my lady, you did not seek to enslave me, knowing what I am and what I can be compelled to do by those of your kind."

"May I ask, milady, why I am being allowed my own mind, you must know that I would find comfort in oblivion."

"Because milord Remus, our mutual good friend Sirius has given me a commission, I am to take care of you."

"You knew Sirius" the werewolf asked, incredulously, "funny he didn't mention any vampire friends."

"We were very circumspect."

"Ah."

"The clothing you wore, are you really a Daughter of Vesta?"

"It was the best way I could think of to get into Hogwarts, the best way to get close to you."

Remus nodded, "would you like for me to leave your vestments where they can be found? It would appear that you were mauled by a large wolf."

"No, then they'd come looking for the werewolf that did it. Let's go back so I can just vanish the evidence."

As they neared the edge of the forest they heard voices. Hagrid was speaking.

"Never seen nuthin' like it. Her clothes were torn up and bloodied but it twas boar's blood, not human."

"Do you think she was kidnapped and someone wants us to think she's been killed?" McGonagall asked.

"Possible, I'd have to leave it up to the aurors to work tha one out."

"She's a very capable Daughter of Vesta; I can't see her being taken easily." Minerva thought aloud.

"Aint no evidence of a human struggle here, an no human footprints or claw marks in the dirt or grass. No human blood here neither."

Remus looked to Bella for guidance. She shook her head and directed him to follow her back into the forest. When they were a safe distance away she said "better to let them think I was taken against my will, I'll contact a friend in London who can provide cover for us."

"Us?"

"Yes Remus, time for you to rejoin the living."

"Oh this is prime real estate miss," the smarmy realtor practically oozed, "practically inside the Hogsmeade city limits, twenty bedrooms all the amenities."

Pansy stopped him with a gesture, "Why don't we both just stop pretending that we don't know this was, until recently, a brothel and a meeting place for dark witches and wizards?

"We both know the only reason a house like this would have so many tiny bedrooms is that they were rented, along with their occupants, by the hour.

"I know that the family that owned this "estate" is in desperate need of cash. Here's my offer. You get the seller to cut the asking price in half and I'll increase your commission by half, bring it to below a third, which, to be honest, is a more realistic asking price then I'll double your commission. Please remind the buyers that we're talking cash here. The Americans have a wonderful saying. "Money talks, bullshit walks." I assure you I'm talking here."

Millicent walked around the property – thirty hectares, complete with stalls for horses from a bygone era. Along the ground floor on the side of the house facing the cobblestone Hogsmeade Road were a row of twelve carriage houses, each with a door leading into the parlor.

"Perfect," Pansy said as the realtor left to make a firecall, "Millie!"

"Yeah Panz?"

"Did you get that auror, the one who helped us with Alison?"

"Yeah, she said she'd be here in about an hour."

"Good thing," Pansy said to no one in particular, "we're gonna need some backup."

"Who else?" Millicent asked.

"We need someone honest and half crazy."

"Lovegood?"

"Oh, that's good," saying that Pansy started a fire in the kitchen hearth then threw in a handful of floo powder, "Xeno Lovegood's!"

Luna answered, "Oh hello Pansy, what do you want."

"Can you come through . . . please?" the dark haired girl asked.

Luna looked intrigued, shrugged and said she'd be just a moment.

Luna stepped through with the grace of a dancer; Neville Longbottom, however, fell to one knee but kept the sword point up, eyes wary.

Pansy sighed, "I solemnly swear that I mean no harm to anyone in this room on my magic and my life."

The brilliant blue aura that flared for a moment convinced Neville and Luna of Pansy's sincerity.

"I need a house and I can get this one cheap but it's got to be a cash sale," Pansy explained, "I'm buying from a pretty shady family. . ."

Neville snorted, then looked abashed as Pansy continued.

". . . so I wanted another couple of wands here in case the seller decides to get greedy."

"Why do you need a house, Parkinson?"

"Because my family's home and all their holdings were confiscated, Longbottom, I am in fact, homeless at this time."

"Why do you need such a big place?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She looked up at him and asked straight out, "will you help me here or not?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely. . ."

"Were going to set up here, in the parlor," Millicent interjected, "we'll need a table and chairs for everyone.

"Not everyone," Neville said, "I'll be over here." As he said this he stood by the wall nearest the sideboard and disillusioned himself.

"Nice one, Neville!" Millicent said, obviously impressed by the display of wandless magic.

Neville faded into view, smiling. "Thanks Millicent."

"There's definitely more to you than meets the eye, Long, um, Neville." Pansy observed.

"Oh yes, he's quite talented!" Luna said, making Neville blush a deep crimson.

Pansy raised an eyebrow and wondered if the blonde Ravenclaw shared. . .

The fireplace flared to life and the auror from Knockturn Alley stepped through.

"Thank you for coming, officer, um," Pansy stammered; having just realized she didn't know the woman's name.

"Webber, Miss Parkinson, Margaret Webber." The auror looked around and nodded approvingly. "Good choice, no dark corners or corridors, and I see you have some backup, how have you been Neville?"

"Fine Maggie, it's great to see you again!"

"Maggie?" Pansy asked, raising the other eyebrow.

"Yes, Maggie, I mean, Auror Webber is an old friend of the family, a distant cousin actually. She's been tutoring me on auror studies so I can apply for the Academy next spring."

The auror smiled and looked sideways at the other girls in the room. "He's so cute. Neville is worried that he won't be accepted into the program. After all he did on the castle grounds, defying Riddle to his face, pulling the sword out of that old hat and chopping off the bloody great snake's head he's actually worried."

Neville and the girls heard the realtor and the seller talking in the next room.

Maggie winked and said, "Ready Neville?"

"Born ready, Maggie."

And both mages faded from view. Only their outlines betrayed their movement as they moved to the wall. When they were motionless they were virtually invisible.

The realtor entered along with Carraticus Crabbe, the late Vincent Crabbe's grandfather. He didn't bother with any greetings.

"Ya bring the money?" he demanded.

Pansy didn't respond to the bad manners, she just nodded. "I have two thousand Galleons, and the rest can be drawn with a cashier's check from any Gringott's location."

"That'll have ta do," he said, then shouted "BOYS!"

Two men who looked quite a lot like younger versions of the elder Crabbe apparated in, they, along with the old man and the realtor leveled their wands at the three girls in the room.

"Give over the money now and we might let you live after!" the old man sneered.

"After what?" Pansy asked, calmly.

"After we fuck your brains out you stupid little bint, what else are the three of you good for."

The disembodied voice of Auror Webber answered, "Oh I'd say they're good for fifteen to twenty years each, stupefy!"

Two jets of red light took out the Crabbe brothers. Millicent, true to form cold cocked the realtor with a combination one-two punch. The elder Crabbe dropped his wand and raised his hands.

Neville and Maggie faded into view.

"Yew gonna' arrest me?"

"Nah, then the ministry would just confiscate all your properties." Maggie said with a feral smile.

"Whot you want then?"

"I propose you sell this property to the young lady as arranged, with one slight adjustment, you sign over ownership for the price of the down-payment."

"That's robbery that is!"

Millicent stood over the old man cracking her knuckles dangerously, "What do you think you call what you were goin' ta do to us?"

"Fifty-eight," Auror Webber said.

"Whot's that?"

"You now have fifty-eight minutes to get out of the U.K. before I arrest you and confiscate all your holdings, oops, now you have fifty-seven."

"An if I refuse t' sign?"

"Then the count goes from minutes to seconds."

"Where do I sign?" the old man said.

"Right here," Pansy handed him the blood quill, "and any attempt to vary the deal, or curse the residence will result in you loosing your magic to the last generation of Crabbes."

The old man glared at her.

"You see, you old goat, I knew your worthless grandson and he used to brag about how you treated your business partners."

"You little. . ."

"Shut up you old fart, and sign."

"Fifty-four."

"Awright, awright!"

Crabbe senior signed his properties away and disapparated with a loud "crack!"

Pansy was thrilled; she looked at the bill of sale in utter disbelief. "Auror Webber, I could kiss you!"

"Um, I don't exactly swing that way, tell you what, give my cousin here a smooch and we'll call it even!"

Neville was tackled and kissed thoroughly by Pansy and Millicent, who, wonder of wonders, was one terrific kisser!

Luna helped him stand and stood in front of him so it wouldn't be too evident how much the Slytherin girls got his attention.

"Thank you for making Neville ready for me, ladies, I'm going to take him home now and give him some relief."

They disappeared with a double "pop!"

Auror Webber looked at the three men on the parlor floor and sighed, "Do you two have any idea how much paperwork you're having me do here?"

"Sorry, Maggie."

The MDLE officer smiled and said, "No worries, I'm up for promotion soon and this'll look good on my record."

She placed a small round disk on each of the unconscious men and counted down "three, two, one and now!"

The portkeys activated removing any trace that the felons had been there to begin with.

"I want you to know that I think it's brilliant, what you two are trying to do here." Maggie said, "Remember to call me first if you need anything, okay?"

"Thank you, Maggie, thank you for everything."


	9. Chapter 8: Vocations

Chapter 8 – Vocations

Bella curled back onto the leafy bedding and was instantly asleep. Remus rested, snoozing occasionally but was instantly awake at the slightest change in sound or scent.

The disk of the sun was half gone when Bella stirred, stretched like a cat, then rose to her feet. She sensed before she saw the werewolf watching her.

"What?" she asked.

He smiled and said, "In your former life you must have been a dancer."

"There was a time when I wanted to be, but "purebloods" don't perform in public."

"Your movements are so graceful, fluid. Every thing you do is art."

"I think I'm going to like having you around, milord Were. You're good for my fragile ego."

"The only other vampire I've ever known was a drama queen too." He said with a smirk.

"You don't want to know what the only other werewolf I've known was like."

"Anything like the one that turned me, Fenrir Greyback?"

She nodded, "Very much."

"Y'know," Remus said, "in a perverse way Greyback was compensating for his own impotence."

"You mean he . . ."

"Yep, there wasn't a spell or potion that could help him with his, um, little problem."

"Big bad wolf, tiny little penis?"

"Right in one milady."

"No wonder he was such a vicious bastard," she looked appraisingly at Remus, "no problems in that department, milord Were?"

"No complaints. . ."

His face fell as he remembered his beloved Dora, and their orphaned son, Teddy.

Bella cursed to herself, quietly. "Would you like to see your son?"

Remus's expression was very pained. He knew his chances of reclaiming his son were slender to nil. As far as the world knew, Remus Lupin was dead. Let it remain so. That didn't stop the ache in his heart when he thought about little Teddy.

"He is better off with his grandmum, Andromeda."

"We can still pop in and see him if you like."

"Later perhaps."

"Shite, shite, shite!" she thought to herself, "I have to keep him busy, keep his mind off his loss."

She thought about simply releasing her pheromones to enthrall him but then she would have a slave, with no will of his own. Somehow she knew she needed him whole in mind and spirit. It was like the challenge of breaking a thoroughbred horse. Make him accept the bridle, but keep his spirit intact.

Bridle.

Reins.

Direction.

The germ of an idea began to take hold.

This man needed a direction, guidance. He could be a weapon, dark and terrible or he could be an instrument of peace.

It couldn't be that simple, could it?

Her inner voice assured her that it could.

She followed the thought to a logical conclusion and it all fit. The parameters would include meditation, certainly, an ascetic lifestyle, of course. Devotions would follow a lunar cycle where the members of the order would have to be in seclusion during certain cycles of the moon. With a full beard and tonsure his own mother wouldn't recognize him. Add glasses and the disguise would be perfect. It was just the thing. Now if she could only sell Remus on the idea.

It would have to wait thought, moonrise was imminent. She slipped off her cloak and gown; her skin glowed gloriously pale in the twilight.

"Milord?" she said, gesturing at his own robes.

He removed his own. She gasped as she saw countless scars crisscrossing his legs and torso. Most of the wounds were apparently self-inflicted – Bella remembered reading that werewolves had a shorter life-span than most wizards because of the pain of morphing from one form to another every month. Most fought the transformation with all their strength, making the change insanely painful.

He was becoming agitated as he felt the moonrise approach.

"Remus," she said softly, "do you trust me?"

He hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"Look into my eyes, see how deeply you can see into my eyes."

And Remus was transfixed by the deep purple irises rimmed by a thin line of red, but the pupils, they went on forever. He couldn't see his reflection in those dark pits. They absorbed everything. Light, pain, consciousness.

Bella held him transfixed through the transformation. It may have been as painful as any he had ever experienced, but it was as though he were watching the change from somewhere else. It was someone else's pain.

He shook his canine head and watched as the lady Vamp became the white she-wolf. She dropped her forepaws to the ground, tongue lolling and tail wagging as she initiated play.

Remus was thrilled. He was no longer the lone wolf, crying in the night.

Millie stood in the entryway of Pansy's new house flanked on either side by half-starved children with haunted expressions; one boy, one girl. Both had the thousand yard stare. Pansy could guess their story. Pureblood children, used to being treated like royalty, spoiled rotten.

Then nothing, less than nothing: no money, no privilege, no home, no food and no one to take care of them. The children ran when their parents died or were arrested. They hid when aurors and other people from the ministry tried to take custody of them. Neither could remember their last decent meal.

Both had been rummaging through garbage in Diagon Alley when Millie found them.

"Put two more plates out, Allison, there's a dear." Pansy called out.

"Yes Mama Pansy."

She shot an accusatory glare at Millicent. "You got her started on that and now everyone's calling me that."

"I dunno," Millie smirked. "Kind of suits you doncha think?"

"Fine, _Mama_ Millie!"

The big girl's smile was genuine, "I like the sound o' that."

"How many does that make?" Pansy asked.

"Well, Bernie here and Collette make it an even score."

Pansy groaned. Twenty children, all dispossessed pure-bloods. "How many more d'you reckon?"

"Talking to the kids I'd say about a dozen more."

"I'll take Bernie, you take Collette."

Each girl took their new charges to a small bathroom where they transfigured their ragged clothing into plain, serviceable garments, then had them bathe. Many of the children coming off the streets had lice and that had to be taken care of immediately. Bernie was okay, but Collette's hair was teaming with nits.

The main parlor was the only room long enough to use as a dining hall. Pansy and Millicent worked long days without any breaks to make a decent home environment for their charges.

Cleaned and scrubbed the new arrivals fit right in – indeed they knew many of the other children.

Pansy sat in her bedroom / office scrutinizing documents. Magic was wonderful, but you can't conjure food. She was pouring over books on nutrition and child care. The books were helpful but did little to teach her how to be a surrogate parent.

Just past midnight on the day of Bernie and Collette's arrival she had an epiphany.

These children needed exactly what she _hadn't_ had growing up. Oh she was a spoilt rotten princess to be sure but that's because it was easier to just give her everything she ever wanted rather than take the time to care, really care.

She wrote ten guidelines:

_Love the children, especially those who seem unlovable. _

_Make every effort to catch each child in the act of being or doing good every day, let them know you appreciate them._

_Clearly define expectations, give each child responsibilities._

_Fun is allowed in the home and in the classroom._

_Never ever strike a child. That teaches them that hitting is a solution. Belts are for holding up trousers, not for discipline._

_Hug every child at least once a day, see rule one_

_Have a warm breakfast everyday._

_Help each child discover his or her dream and then follow that dream._

_Tell every child that you love him / her everyday, again, see rule one._

_Make sure they have a place to call their own._

Millicent found her the next morning; head down on the writing desk, snoring gently. The big girl lifted Pansy's limp unresisting form and placed her in her bed, pulled off the girl's shoes and covered her with the duvet.

Millie sat at the desk and looked at the ledger. Almost all the numbers were in the red. Pansy's trust would pay a stipend at the end of the month but that would barely keep them in bread and soup.

As she closed the ledger she saw the guidelines. Her own breath caught as she felt the rightness of it. She quietly slipped out of the room, but not before she placed a kiss on Pansy's forehead and said, "I love you, y'know?"

That morning "Mama Millie" served up scrambled eggs and sausages and fresh milk to twenty-one grateful urchins, the twenty first child had shown up at the door, just in time for breakfast.

After breakfast she had Allison and some of the older kids start making a list of things that had to be done around the manor and grounds. Then another list describing what each child could do to help Mama Pansy in her efforts to care for them.

When Pansy woke she panicked, thinking she needed to be doing any one of the hundred things that needed to be done around the manor. She bolted from her room to see everyone cleaning, cooking or hunched over the dining tables making lists and plans.

Just above the fireplace where there had been a portrait of the elder Crabbe there was a framed copy of Pansy's guidelines done in beautiful calligraphy.

Millie smiled and gave her a hug.

"What did you do?" Pansy asked.

"We just had a sit-down chat, seems like the kids have all decided we're family, and family takes care of its own."

Millicent laid out the plans for the grounds. "We're going to turn this place into a working farm. It'll be good to grow as much of our own food as we can, and Ethan here," she hugged the shoulders of the new arrival, "used to help out on his granddad's chicken farm, until some arseholes in white masks torched it."

"Millie, how much will all this cost?"

"A bit, at first," she admitted. "But once everything is up and running it'll be a lot less than buying everything outright."

Pansy nodded. "I'm going to Gringotts. If we take out a mortgage on this place that should give us the start-up money we need."

Remus looked at his reflection. A full-bearded tonsured druid monk looked back. His broken nose had been fixed – painfully – by his lady vampire. He wore a black rough cloth monk's robe. Black rimmed glasses completed the ensemble.

"I don't think even Sirius would recognize you." The vampiress said, approvingly.

"_I_ don't recognize me!" Remus said, then started at his own voice, which had been lowered an octave by a simple charm placed around his neck.

"You are Brother David, a druid in service to the Goddess. This will require you to be in isolation for meditation at four times during the lunar month."

"Convenient." He said, appreciatively, "I can be well and away from anyone that might come to harm during the full moon."

"Just so." She said, capturing his gaze. "And Remus?"

"Yes milady?"

"I'll be there for you."


	10. Chapter 9: The House that Hope Built

The House that Hope Built

Pansy needed to cry. She had never cried as a child, except to throw a tantrum in order to get what ever toy or dress or whatever her little black heart had desired. Now she needed to cry in earnest.

The Gringott's visit had been a complete disaster. She was the last of a line of wizards and witches who had been in good stead with that asylum for insane goblins masquerading as a bank for fifty generations. Her own trust chamber was larger than most wizarding family vaults. She could, however, only access the interest on her vault, the principle was to remain untouched until such time that she could prove that she had a source of income that would equal a majority of the funds in her vault. Until such time, she could have the interest.

No, she could not have an advance on the next month's stipend.

But now that she needed funds for a worthwhile cause she was treated like a pauper. The titles for the Crabbe estate were in probate – she and her urchins would be allowed to live there, maybe, in the interim. She had no other collateral.

She sat in a corner booth of The Leaky Cauldron mulling over a hot rum punch.

"Damnit! It just isn't fair!"

"S'matter, Princess? Didn't get yer new pony this year?"

If looks could kill Theodore Nott the Second would be a steaming pile of goo on the pub's scuffed floor.

"Piss off Nott." She said, going back to her cups.

"Now is tha' anyway fer a pureblood princess ta talk?" Nott spilled a drop of firewhiskey on the table top as he slid gracelessly onto the bench across the table from Pansy. The drop sizzled and smoked on the pitted surface.

He swore at the waste of precious alcohol and looked up to see Pansy's wand pointed at him. Even in his state he could appreciate the position he was in. She didn't extend her arm and place the wand between his eyes, that was something Draco liked to do – and more often than not Draco got his arse handed to him by Potter or one of his mates.

No, she kept her elbows close and her wand steady. If she didn't like anything he was about to say or do he would, no doubt, be treated to a dose of liquid pain. He placed both hands, palms down on the table top.

"Sorry Parkinson," he said, soothingly. "I just come to offer you a place to flop if you need it. Me da' kept a flat in London under grandmum's maiden name. Ministry didn' get it an I did."

"No thanks, Nott." She said, placing her wand on the table within easy reach (for her, but not for him). "Why don't you tell me what you really want."

"Quick, ain't cha?"

She leveled her eyes at him and placed her hand on her wand, meaningfully.

"Whot I mean is you know whot's up and all."

"Go on."

"Purebloods bein' treated like so much rubbish, bad as mudbloods. I figure some of us can get together, y'know, fer mutual protection and such."

"And?"

"An' maybe we kin get back some of our own! I know Goyle's in and maybe half the other members of our house."

"How big is your flat?"

"Pretty big, got three floors; twelve bedrooms mostly on the middle floor, master bedrooms on the top floor. Nice view." He leaned forward, leering, "Interested?"

"In you? No. But that flat of yours sounds good. We could put up maybe twenty kids in those rooms. You know, get them off the street?"

Ted Nott looked at Pansy as though she'd grown another nose. "Why in hell would I wanna' do that for? Take in kids?" Then he brightened up, "hey, maybe you got sumthin' there. Yeah, lotsa old wizards an hags like the kiddies, we could make a fortune!"

ooo000ooo­­

Theodore Nott the Third came to his senses with his head down on a wooden surface that reeked of old beer and spirits. He was sitting on a barstool in "The Hag's Hump," a dive that he recognized from Nocturne Alley. Someone had a hammy hand firmly planted on his bum.

He sat up straight and was shocked at his reflection in the bar mirror.

He was wigged and painted up like a cheap whore. His skirt was so short that it barely covered his arse, said arse being fondled at that moment by a large, smelly man on the stool next to his.

"Get cher shithooks offa me, faggot!" he said, then went white-faced in shock. His voice came out two octaves higher than his normal voice, owing to the charmed choker around his throat." The looks he was getting from the bar's patrons made him re-think his strategy. He was the only female form in the bar, and the looks he was getting from the demi-trolls in the place made him feel like a juicy steak in a room full of starving wolves.

"Look mates, this is just a prank, I'm a bloke, see?" He pulled down his narrow tube top, exposing his melon sized breasts. He was so shocked at the sight that it took him a few seconds to pull the knit top back in place. He noticed two of the quasi-trolls clearing off the top of a snooker table.

"No shit, it's just a prank, heh, heh, see, me mates are taking the piss outta me!" he said to the bloke who still had a grip on his bum, "I'm a bloke I tell ya!"

"Makes no nevah mind ta us darlin'" the burly drunk said throwing Ted Nott over his shoulder like a sack of flour, heading for the table. "We still gonna fuck ya!"

ooo000ooo

Pansy stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron and headed in the general direction of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes on a lark. She needed a laugh.

She arrived at Number 93 and frowned. The sign read, "Closed, till further notice. Go amuse yourself."

Well, even closed the Weasleys were good for a laugh.

"Pity, innit?"

Pansy turned to see another redhead, Susan Bones, shaking her head.

"I figured it out a couple of days ago," Susan went on, "a good prank needs a streak of meanness in it. George is brilliant, but Fred? There was just enough mean in him to make them funny, without being overly cruel."

Pansy grunted her agreement.

"Scuse me, Miss, and Miss?"

They turned to see a little boy, perhaps five years old, in an ill-fitting tattered dress robe. "Can you spare a few knuts for a meal?"

"Don't give him anything, Pansy, he needs to go to child services."

Pansy got down on one knee and the little boy looked ready to bolt.

"You look like someone I knew at school, is your name Scott?"

The child looked sideways at her, as if measuring the distance she might cover in a short time. "Brian Scott."

"Brian, do you know Ethen, or Bernie, or Collette?" she asked softly.

The little boy's eyes grew wide at the last name.

"You know where Collette is?" He pleaded.

Pansy nodded, "They came home to a house where hope still lives."

"They found Mama Pansy?"

Susan's eyebrows went up to her hairline as she mouthed "Mama Pansy?"

The dark haired girl groaned, "Yes, they did. And tonight they're going to have a decent meal and sleep in a warm bed."

"Do you know where Mama Pansy's is?" he pleaded.

"Pansy, what is he on about?" Susan asked.

In the time it took for Pansy to think about a reply the little dodger was gone. Like so many street-wise children, he'd learned the value of speed.

"Good job Bones," she groused, "now there's another one who's going to go hungry tonight."

She got down on both knees and looked for a bit of soft stone; she found a chunk of chalk and wrote on the sidewalk.

"Mama Pansy is in Hogsmeade."

Then she stood, dusting off her fingers, and walked toward the Leaky Cauldron to floo back home.

"Pansy, wait!" Susan called after her.

The dark haired girl stopped, turned then looked past Susan, dumbfounded.

A dozen children who looked to be between the ages of four and ten were straggling along behind the redhead.

"This is all of us," Brian said, gesturing at the ragged mob.

"We want to go home too."

ooo000ooo

Three weeks later Susan Bones walked into the offices of the Daily Prophet and asked to speak to a reporter. The editor in chief directed her to a tiny cubicle that was cluttered with awards reflecting a long and distinguished reporting career. She stepped into the small walled space just in time to hear the lone occupant lament.

"So this is hell."

"Hello?"

Rita Skeeter turned her best faux smile on the recent Hogwarts graduate. "Let me guess, you have a story. Something juicy, something that will deliver me from this small minded purgatory?"

"I don't know about that, but I have a story about a once proud Slytherin princess who now works like a house elf on behalf of three dozen war orphans."

"Ah, abuse and neglect. That's a good start."

The next morning found Rita and Susan sitting to breakfast with thirty-three war orphans, Pansy and Millicent.

Millicent fingered her wand and asked "Ms. Skeeter, is that a "quick quotes" quill?"

"No Miss Bulstrode, it's a Non-prevaricating Verbatim Plume. Quick quotes quills have been banned by the Prophet's new owners."

Satisfied, Millie put her wand away. "Susan, would you help Pansy set up the primary classrooms while I give Ms. Skeeter the cook's tour?"

Rita looked cautiously at the large girl offering her a hand up from the low bench at the table.

"Is this the part where you threaten my life and livelihood if I don't make your girlfriend look good?"

"Something like that. Look, if you can't do this in a way that's going to help Pansy, then leave now."

"Why?"

"Because for the first time in her life Pansy is doing something worthwhile; she's put her heart and soul and all her money into this place just to keep those kids off the streets. She's found someone who loves her."

Rita's eyebrows went up.

"Not me, I do love her, just not _that_ way. It's the kids. She loves the kids like they were her own. They _are_ her own."

"I heard one of them call her "Mama" Pansy."

"Yep. Ms. Skeeter, what is love?"

"Um, affection? Caring?"

"Love is when someone else's needs are more important to you than your own. I can tell you that she's up before dawn getting food ready; she always eats last, when I can get her to eat. She tucks all the children into bed at night and tells them she loves them.

"She's put her heart and soul into this place and every knut she can get her hands on goes to their care."

Rita looked again at the Ten Guidelines, and remembered her own childhood – she'd been a war orphan too. The ministry-run shelter for magical children provided them with food and clothing and sent them to school but there was something missing.

Family.

These people, the young adults, the volunteers, the kids all had a sense of belonging.

They were a loving family.

She felt wetness on her cheeks and realized that she was mourning the loss of her own childhood.

Rita Skeeter put her quills and notebooks away, rolled up her sleeves and asked, "What can I do to help?"

Susan spent the next few weeks lobbying the Wizengamont for funding to support private initiatives aimed at helping all those orphaned by the war.

Rita spent her time cooking, cleaning, wiping noses and hugging children when they suffered skinned knees or broken hearts.

She realized that she was working on the single most important story of her life and it had to be perfect.

Susan visited an old friend, who came to see the manor for himself. Harry Potter affected a blond glamour and wore contact lenses that changed the color of his eyes. He introduced himself around as James Evans and spent a great deal of time talking with the children.

He asked Pansy and Millicent what they needed more than anything and was surprised when Mille told him "we" don't need anything, but our children need everything. Teachers, a healer or two, a more varied diet – the chickens were laying, but you could only have eggs for meals two times a day for so long.

"James" was shocked when he recognized Rita Skeeter teaching a primary letters class. She looked better in a simple house robe than she ever had in her designer fashions when her pen had dripped with poison ink. It was obvious that she finally liked herself.

Harry had decided to endow the Parkinson House with all the operating capitol it needed when the manor and grounds were surrounded by DMLE agents and the newly appointed head of Magical Children's services, Delores Umbridge.

In her sickly sweet birdsong voice she said "This establishment is not licensed by the Ministry of Magic, has never applied for a permit with the Department of Magical Children's Services, has never submitted to an inspection by the MCS, and harbors children of known death eaters." The toad like woman placed a ministry decree on the long dining table.

Her grin was feral as she ordered "Aurors, do your duty!"


	11. Chapter 10: What Families Do

Chapter 10

Two dozen children, aged five to ten huddled around Pansy and Millicent. They had been herded into the great room by a dozen battle hardened aurors. None of the DMLE officers had been abusive, but they were an intimidating sight. The sprogs were terrified.

Umbridge was in her element. Absolutely convinced that she was in the right. She knew that some of these urchins were the sons and daughters of death eaters. They would be leverage in gathering the pure-blood faithful back to the ministry. Those bothersome death-eater charges would be dropped as each former follower of the dark lord would plead the "I was imperioused" defense.

It had worked for her twice now.

One female auror moved behind Millicent.

The lady DMLE agent whispered "Invoke _prosapia per diligo_."

The large girl glanced at the auror and smiled. It was Maggie Webber.

Pansy stood between the toad-like woman and her children by choice.

"Stand aside you silly girl. Pureblood or not I will have you arrested if you interfere."

"You will not take them, I claim _prosapia per diligo_."

Umbridge looked annoyed, "You can't, you have no visible means of support and you do not have clear title to this house or land. Now move aside or I shall have you removed."

"Beg pardon Miz Umbridge, the head of this house and the defacto head of the Parkinson family has declared these children to be her family. We will need a Wizengamot Mugwump to override her authority in this case."

"I'm sure we can overlook a strict interpretation of the law for the sake of the children, of course!" Dolores said in her sweetest voice.

"I will be requisitioning a pensive as soon as we return to headquarters, Miz Umbradge. I'm sure the current Supreme Mugwump will want to see evidence of your blatant disregard for the law."

Umbridge backpedaled quickly, "No, oh no Auror, I'm sure you misunderstood me. I only seek to ensure the safety and well being of the children. I love children."

James Evans spoke for the first time, "When did you change your mind about children?"

Umbridge took umbrage at the unwanted interruption.

"I have always loved children!"

"Funny, I recall, two years ago, you admitting that you've always hated children."

"I've never said any such thing!"

"Care to make a mage's oath to that effect, Miz Umbridge?"

"I – I – I can't be expected to remember everything I've ever said."

"Oh I remember it very well. There were only the three of us in the forbidden forest, remember?"

With that "James" lifted the blond fringe from his forehead to reveal the famous lightning bolt scar.

Dolores Umbridge paled.

"I, um, that is to say _we_ will return to the ministry and ensure the proper protocols are in place for, um, serving the best interests of the children."

"I'll be going too, I'm sure Minister Shacklebolt will be interested in this incident. And he _did_ tell me to drop in anytime."

ooo000ooo

Dolores Jane Umbridge was seething. When she had been undersecretary to the Minister of Magic she'd had unlimited access to the Minister at all times. Now she had to sit in the outer office awaiting Minister Shacklebolt's convenience like some minor functionary.

"Damnation!" She said in a pique borne of frustration. The minister's appointment secretary, a muggleborn witch, clandestinely placed "the toad's" name at the end of a long list. Then she looked up and her smile brightened – this day was just getting better and better.

"Mr. Potter!"

"Please Lena, call me Harry."

Harry was very fond of the Greek born Lena Polyxena, a svelte blonde whose naturally curly hair framed a pretty face that smiled easily – in spite of the fact that she'd had a rough life and had been treated very badly by the Voldemort administration. Her soon to be ex-husband, a healer at St. Mungo's, never raised a finger to help her as she was carted off to stand the mockery of a trial under the very same woman who sat impatiently in her waiting room.

"I'm sorry Harry, but as you are here to see the Minister in an official capacity I have to follow protocol."

"Hem, hem."

Harry pulled a small white bag from the pocket of his robe, opened the bag and spilled two small wrapped sweets on the small table near the wall.

"If you have a cough have one of these, George Weasley swears by them."

"No, thank you, Mister Potter. I just wish to remind the Minister's appointment secretary that I have been waiting here for a very long time."

"As you say, Miz Umbridge, but Harry, um, Mr. Potter has an appointment, whereas you do not."

Lena didn't have to mention that Harry had instant access to the Minister at any time for any reason.

"I'm sure Mister Potter wouldn't mind letting me see the Minister in his stead."

"Oh, but I do, Dolores. It would be very awkward to have you in the room as I'll be lodging a formal complaint against you. I'm sure Kingsley will want to see you as soon as our meeting is concluded."

"Go right in Mister Potter." Lena said with obvious delight.

"Oh, and Dolores?"

The "Toad in a Cardie" glared up at him.

"I'd consider cleaning out your desk if I were you."

The squat woman sat bonelessly on the uncomfortable chair and considered her options. Almost by reflex she unwrapped one of the taffies and popped it into her mouth.

Kingsley Shacklebolt rose from behind the desk to give Harry a firm handshake and an equally firm hug. Both men looked at his outer office door when they heard the shriek, followed by unintelligible sounds that may or may have not been violent curses.

Harry smirked.

Kingsley grinned, "What did you do Harry?"

Harry feigned righteous indignation, "Me, Minister? Why nothing. But I think Miz Umbridge might have eaten a ton-tongue toffee or two."

"Do you know the counter curse?" The minister asked.

"Of course, as do you."

"Still, perhaps it would be better if she were attended by professional healers. . ."

He stuck his head out the door and was treated to the sight of Umbridge nearly choking on what looked like a metre-long slug.

"Miss Polyxena, please use the emergency portkey to send Miz Ubridge to St. Mungo's. There's a good lass."

As soon as the portkey activated Lena, Kingsley, and Harry nearly fell over laughing.

"Thanks for the head's up there Harry."

"I figured you would know not to eat any sweet that had the name "Weasley" on the wrapper."

"Lena, would you ring up some tea?"

"Right away boss."

When the elf arrived with the service Lena offered to pour.

"All right, Harry, what is this about? I refuse to believe that Umbridge has stationed herself outside my door for no reason."

Lena picked up her cup and exited the office.

"First you have to help me understand why that woman isn't in Azkaban."

"Ah, yes." The man looked uncomfortable in his skin. "You have to understand, Harry, we're severely understaffed here at the ministry. So many of the previous administration's key people were either active death eaters or were imperioused.

"We have had to retain many of the civil servants that ran the Ministry who were known collaborators because we simply do not have adequate replacements.

"I don't like it one bit, but the same thing happened at the end of the war with Grindlewald, in both the magical and muggle governments. Many of the German civil servants had been in Nazi uniforms just weeks before their appointments under the allied sponsored reconstruction government."

"Imperioused or not, that woman is evil. Surely you know that."

"I'll make you a deal, Harry, you find me someone who can run her department as efficiently. Then give me evidence of a crime, something that can't be attributed to being under the imperious curse and I'll see to it that she's sacked."

Harry extended his left hand, the white scars spelling out "I must not tell lies."

"Did she ever claim to be under the curse when she tortured students at Hogwarts? I also have witnesses who will testify that she was interrupted in the act of casting the cruciatus on me."

"Get me the pensive memories from yourself and one other reliable witness." He tapped the scar on the back of Harry's hand. "This is good for five years, minimum."

"If you're looking for a good department head for Magical Children's Services I'd suggest Percy Weasley, he's a lot more fun these days than he used to be, I think he's trying to make up for the loss of his brother, Fred. If he's not interested I'd suggest anyone with a history of management, hell, Lena would be a good choice, but where would you find another appointment secretary that would put up with you?"

From the outer office they heard Lena shout, "If that's an offer then I'll take it!"

ooo000ooo

Dolores Umbridge was _not_ having a good day. What should have been a simple process of rounding up a few stray children became a nightmare as that stupid Parkinson girl chose to interfere. Then she was left to stew in the Minister's outer office while a parade of menials seemed to have easy access to Kingsley Shacklebolt. Then Harry Potter intimidated that she was about to lose her job and her pension, then had poisoned her!

An intern healer had taken pity on her and had removed the tongue-engorging curse. He left the small treatment room to go in search of a potion when she heard someone say they were looking to place her, Dolores Umbridge, under arrest!

She panicked and reverted to her animagus form, a toad – no surprise there. She hopped, then crawled under a low table and froze, barely breathing.

"She was just here!" The young intern told the two aurors just outside the treatment room.

"She won't have gone far." one of the DMLE officers, a female, said, "She can't apparate out of here. We'll find her."

A toad can remain still for days if need be, she would just wait them out.

ooo000ooo

Minerva McGonagall read the letter from Sister Bellanca.

_Dear Headmistress,_

_I apologize for not writing sooner, I have been devoting all of my time to rehabilitating a patient infected with the Lycan virus and didn't want to expose anyone at Hogwarts to the infection._

_I was performing my daily ablutions in the spring near the edge of the forest when my patient, in his full wolf form, happened upon my habit. The Goddess protected me. As you may know Lycans suffer from hydrophobia. I was able to wait out the dawn in the safety of the pool. The water was cool, but I had my wand and warming charms are very easy for me._

_All is well; I hope that my service eased your burden for a time. I know the Goddess placed me in the forest so that I could help my newest patient._

_Brightest Blessings and Merry Partings_

_Bellanca, DoV_

"Well that's a load off my mind," Minerva thought, "I must tell Hagrid. He'll be relieved as well."

She cast about looking for parchment and quill.

ooo000ooo

Remus felt better than he had in years. The last two transformations had been virtually painless. Bellanca had used her vampiric power to ease him into and out of his wolf form. He finally understood the reason that werewolves sought out vampires and he knew he would be eternally in his lady's debt for the comfort she had given him. The fact that she didn't enthrall him outright made him feel even more indebted to her, if that were possible.

For her part Bella had become very fond of Remus. He had a great heart but there was a hole in it that could only be filled by his dear departed wife and orphaned son. She'd had to excuse herself every three evenings or so in order to feed. She'd been in contact with Eliza, who had been thrilled that her descendant had found herself a nice werewolf companion, citing her vast experience with werewolf partners and their insatiable sex drives just before the full moon. Bella didn't bother correcting her. She knew Eliza would direct her to Hogsmeade's nearest sanguinaria.

Her ancestress didn't disappoint. There was an inn, "Molly Malone's," on the outskirts of town that catered to vampires, often using the rooms for resting vampires during the day and resting wizards at night – doubling their profits in the process.

Bella was returning from Molly Malone's when she recognized Carraticus Crabbe's old Hogsmeade manor house. She'd remembered many nights in that old coot's rooms utterly debauched. It looked different now.

It looked bright and clean and respectable.

There were children feeding chickens in the predawn light.

"Hello." She called out to a small girl who was spreading chicken feed in the yard.

"Hello, Miss." The tiny girl answered politely.

"Do you live here?" Bella asked.

"Yes, Miss. With my brothers and sisters and Mummys"

"Mummies?" Bella wondered how multiple Egyptian corpses had found their way to Hogsmeade.

"Yes, Miss. Mummy Pansy and Mummy Millie."

"No daddies?"

"Not yet, Miss."

"Bella, please call me Bella; and you are?"

"Beg pardon Miss Bella, I'm Kayla."

"How many brothers and sisters do you have?"

Kayla looked thoughtful for a moment before she said "lots."

"Who takes care of you if there are so many?"

"We do." The little girl said in a "matter of fact" tone, "We're all family. That's what families do."

Bella laughed delightedly. "Yes, little Kayla, that's exactly what families do."

ooo000ooo

Some of my reviewers, bless you BTW, have written that they liked the character of Sister Bellanca. Having Brother David in the mix should make for some interesting evenings.

The concept of a sanguinaria is my own. What else would you call an establishment where the menus read Type A, B, or O. "You should try my recipe for a Bloody Mary, one part vodka, two parts AB negative. . ."

Last, I'm spending a lot of time in my new job while trying to finish one military / science fiction novel as well as a science fiction / fantasy work.

I always finish what I start, updates, however, will be protracted due to my new schedule.

As always thank you to my faithful reviewers, you keep me going!

N!


	12. Chapter 11: Of Toads and Cubs

Chapter 11 – Of Toads and Cubs

The toad squatted in the narrow space between the low metal shelf and the dusty tile floor. The animagus had nothing to do but sit and think. She couldn't move; the aurors would detect her.

Her bulbous eyes were drawn to movement as a tiny German cockroach scurried in her periphery. She snapped it up before her human brain could register the fact. If she'd been in her human shape she would have shrugged her shoulders. In this form that little snack could keep her alive for a week.

She settled back and thought some more.

She'd been the right hand of Minister Fudge. He was gone – consigned to obscurity, barely a footnote in history.

She'd climbed the ladder in the Scrimgeour administration so that, when he was overthrown, she was in a position to assume her rightful place in the Pureblood cabinet.

How she relished those times. Feared and respected by all who knew her, she had reached her pinnacle – removing mudblood filth from Wizarding Britain, and who knows what would have happened after that?

Then her world came crashing down. Again.

That Potter Brat and his mudblood tarts, blood traitors and half-blood sycophants toppled the one man who'd had the power to bring peace and prosperity back to their world.

Overcome by frustration she shrieked. Well, her human brain shrieked, but her toad form let out a resounding croak.

"Ere now, whot's this?"

The table that had been hiding the amphibian was suddenly lifted away.

Bright light made her blink involuntarily. She felt rather than saw a large hand grasp her middle and lift, then drop her into a deep pail.

"Me mate Azmo will be right chuffed – e' likes a nice toad now and again."

Dolores Jane Umbridge was beside herself with glee. This squib (she knew that all the custodial staff at St. Mungo's were squibs) was going to be her ride out of captivity. Once away she could apparate to wherever she wanted. She just had to get away from the non-apparation perimeter surrounding the magical hospital.

The janitor muttered to himself as he descended into the basement, and than took another set of steps to a sub-basement.

"Bollocks!" she thought to herself, "This one has some kind of apartment under the hospital."

"Here y' go Azmo, I brung ya a mate to play with."

Umbridge tumbled arse over tea kettle, landing wetly on a wooden surface.

Thinking she'd had quite enough, thank you Dolores began to puff herself up in preparation for the transformation back to her human form. She sensed a blur of movement to her left; then felt a sharp pain in her side. She couldn't regain her human form as the whole left side of her body went suddenly numb.

She struggled with her good right arm and leg to turn herself around and saw the adder that had just bitten her.

An animagus can only perform one bit of magic while in his or her animal shape, and that is to revert back to human form. That little trick takes a great deal of concentration, unwavering focus.

It's very hard to focus when you realize you're about to be eaten by a large venomous snake.

Toads can live for several agonizing minutes in the digestive tract of an adder.

If they're lucky they suffocate before stomach acid begins to digest them. Unfortunately, Dolores Jane Umbridge's luck had long since run out.

ooo000ooo

The odd couple, vampiress and werewolf knelt naked in the clearing just inside the forbidden forest. Their clothes were neatly folded in the crook of the large oak that spread its branches above them.

Bellatrix's deep purple eyes captured his dark amber ones. He could feel her warmth, her will flowing into his body through their shared gaze.

"Become one with me Remus, let it happen. Breathe, that's it, breathe."

They morphed smoothly, and, most importantly for Remus, painlessly into their full wolf forms.

Her midnight black hair streaked with white, then went completely platinum as she became the white wolf. His sandy hair going grey, the grey of the alpha male.

Today, for some reason, he had a heightened awareness of the vampiress, something was different, she was even more alluring than usual. Bella smirked; she knew that her bitch was ovulating, deep into her heat.

She refused to enthrall him in her human vampire form, but this was simple animal attraction. And she had gone quite long enough without, thank you very much. Bella yipped, turned and scampered deeper into the woods. She was going to make this as much fun as possible, for both of them.

ooo000ooo

Pansy looked at the legal document in front of her. Clear title to the Manor and grounds of Carraticus Crabbe. Her net worth, having gone up ten fold from what it had been, was enough to release her family's vault to her discretion. She had her birthright at last! She was the scion of a noble family, and vowed that her family would be noble again.

"Mama Pansy! Mama Pansy, look!"

Elizabeth Earlich, a pale ten year old redheaded came puffing into the great room carrying a small stack of newspapers. The headline read:

"Parkinson Builds House of Hope in Hogsmeade."

The story described her budding establishment in glowing terms, citing personal sacrifice and selfless devotion to the children of tragedy.

The article went on to describe the abortive attempt by a minor ministry official to remove the children from her care. It called upon the new administration to support Parkinson House in its humanitarian effort.

The first owls appeared as she was putting the paper down.

Letters of admiration and support began to pour in. And donations, galleons, pledges of food, clothing, furniture, toys – everything she had planned to buy in the coming weeks and months seemed to appear as if by, well, magic.

Two letters contained proposals of marriage and one offered to help her relieve the stress she must surely be under.

Three howlers insisted that she had no business setting herself up as an example for wayward wizarding children.

In her darkest moods she agreed with those who'd sent the howlers, but then Millie reminded her that most parents were no better off than she was in that respect. You didn't need a license to make sprogs, just a healthy libido.

At the end of the day she looked up at her ten guidelines over the great room's fireplace, then down at the smiling faces of the children she loved more than anything and smiled.

She was happier than she'd ever been in her life, and she'd done it as a single witch in a wizard's world.

ooo000ooo

Harry Potter leaned back into the embrace of his best friend. They were reclined in the cushions of his 'big comfy couch' in the library of Grimauld Place. She had pulled him into a gentle hug as he sat with the morning paper. She took his shoulders and gently turned him so that he could recline against her. It was their normal morning routine, allowing them to snuggle and read the paper at the same time. Soft brown curls fell across his cheek. He wished he could stay cuddled with her forever, but he knew he was just "borrowing" her to help get past his grief.

"Why do I get the feeling that you had something to do with this?" she asked, nodding at the headline.

"Very little actually," he replied, "this was mostly Rita's doing."

Hermione knew that he had interceded on her behalf with the goblins and the Shacklebolt Administration.

He leaned his head back on her shoulder.

"Did you know that Rita grew up in a ministry orphanage?"

"No."

"Um-hum, and she saw something at Parkinson's House that she'd never had growing up."

"What's that?"

"A family."

"Who'd have thought that harpy had such a soft spot in her heart?"

Harry chuckled, "Which one? Pansy or Rita?"

"Both, either, I couldn't have known."

"When we knew Pansy in school all we saw was the pureblood princess – she was a product of her environment. She couldn't imagine any other kind of life."

Hermione hummed in agreement, "now she finds herself surrounded by people who love her and depend on her."

"So what you're saying is that, what Pansy needed was to be needed?"

"Exactly."

"When I arrived at her house d'you know what she was doing?"

"No."

"She was sorting socks, with five of the little ones. There must have been nineteen or twenty odd pairs of socks spread out on the floor and she was helping the children with the matching. She looked up at me and smiled and asked if I wanted to help.

"She's really rather pretty when she smiles, y'know?"

Hermione shrugged, "I wouldn't know, she's never smiled for me."

"And Millicent, big as she is, is so gentle with all of them."

"She had a tough time at school. Big as a house and a half-blood in Slytherin to boot."

"Well, they've both overcome their upbringing."

"Just like you, Harry."

"Me?"

"Oh yes, given the abuse and neglect you had growing up? The sad truth is that abused children often become abusers themselves – not you."

He put down the paper and snuggled into her gentle embrace. "It's because of you, y'know."

"How's that?"

"You have been my anchor, the voice of my conscience, since first year."

"Your nag more likely."

"Sometimes. Sometimes I need a little nag."

"I'll always be there for you Harry."

"I know, Hermione. And I'll always need you."

"I love you Harry Potter."

"I love you Hermione Potter."

She stiffened; did he mean to say "Potter"?

ooo000ooo

Bella and Remus woke from their post coital nap to the plaintive cry of a wolf cub. Pack law says there will be no orphan cubs. The alpha male communicated this to his alpha female, who nodded. They loped off together in search of the cub.

They found him in the crook of two tree roots being harassed by three medium sized acromantulae. Two arthropod legs twitched on the ground between the arachnids and the cub.

Remus growled, low and dangerous. Two of the acromantulae spun to face him. The two spiders combined probably equaled the mass of the lycan, but fast as they were they were slow compared to the werewolf.

Of course they had very sharp, potently venomous fangs.

Bellatrix stepped back and morphed into her human vampire form.

Remus sprang onto the nearest spider and sank his teeth into the largest spider's cephalothorax, just behind the great compound eyes. The other acromanula jumped onto the wolf's back and buried it's fangs into his shoulder.

Remus could sense the venom, like molten lead in his blood then felt the weight of the spider lift as Bellatrix tore it off his back to splatter it across the trunk of the great tree. She then picked up a fallen log, three metres long and a good twenty centemetres across at it's thickest point.

The third spider turned from his wolf-cub prey just in time to see Remus charging him, he scuttled back as fast as his six remaining legs could carry him. Bellatrix had been waiting for the arachnid to giver her a clear shot and she took it, throwing the felled limb like an oversized javelin to skewer the spider from mouth to anus.

The werewolf cub, seeing the human approach bristled and snarled. In less than a wink she morphed into the white wolf.

He sniffed the air as he crawled out from the shelter of the tree roots. He continued to crawl, still on his belly, tail low and wagging and turned belly up in front of Bella. She clamped lightly on his throat, showing that she accepted him. The cub repeated his supplication to Remus, who responded likewise.

The three loped into the forest together.

There are no orphan wolf cubs.

ooo000ooo

Theodore Nott the Third left St. Mugo's, having seen a transfiguration specialist and a magical proctologist to heal from his ordeal at the "Hag's Hump." Nott vowed that he would level that place once he'd formed his new army. He had a list of names, the children of the followers of Voldemort, dispossessed, evicted, scraping a living doing the kind of work their proud families used to hire menials to do.

The Son's of the Serpent, neo-death eaters all, would begin a reign of terror. They would take back magical Britain, then the continent, then who knows?


	13. Chapter 12: Wanabees

Chapter 12 - Wanabees

The Beer Hall Putsch. On November 9th 1923, Adolf Hitler attempted to take over the German Government with force. Short version, a few Nazi's were killed and when the shooting started the ex-corporal ran. He was a coward and a laughing stock.

Those who ignore the lessons of history are, indeed, doomed to repeat them.

ooo000ooo

Gregory Goyle listened to Theodore Nott's rant.

"Half bloods and mudbloods have taken over – they control the economy, they subvert pure blood ideals while diluting the very magical core of the wizarding world!

"Our fathers have been imprisoned, our homes and lands and riches have been taken from us. Our heritage has been 'redistributed' among the lesser races!"

Goyle, who had been living in one of the rooms of Notts London flat, nodded. His family wasn't as well off as some, but he'd certainly not missed any meals until recently.

"We need to gather all the pure blood families together, band together for our mutual protection. To attack one of us will be to attack all of us and we _will_ retaliate!"

A chime sounded and Goyle excused himself, he had a date with Millie Bulstrode that afternoon.

ooo000ooo

Morning found Remus and Bella huddled around a small boy, perhaps five years old, who whimpered in pain and fear.

The adults dressed and Bella conjured a small robe for the boy.

"What is your name, little one?"

"Odin, Miss, Odin Brearly."

"Why were you in the forest Odin?" Remus asked kindly.

"Mummy and Daddy always told me to go into the forest when I started to hurt."

"Do they live in Hogsmeade?" Bella prompted.

"Um hum, cept our house ain't there no more."

Remus rubbed his eyes, "Brearleys, Brearleys, didn't they run the green grocers in Hogsmeade."

Little Odin smiled and nodded.

Remus shook with controlled anger. When he spoke his voice was low and dangerous. "Greyback. First that bastard turned their son, and then when they still wouldn't support his dark lord he killed them."  
Bella nodded, "He always liked young blood – weren't you a child when he bit you?"

The lycan nodded, "I had just turned eight."

"How old are your Odin?"

"Five an a half."

"Are you hungry?"

The little boy nodded.

"Lets go into the village and find some breakfast."

Bella transfigured their robes into the cassock for Remus and the pallum and infula for herself.

"Kin I have a robe like his?" the boy asked.

Bella smiled and waved her wand to make Odin's robe a miniature version of Remus's Druid vestment - right down to the hemp sandals on his feet. She smiled because they looked so cute walking together.

"Next full moon we will all transform together, son, and then it won't hurt so much." Remus said with a reassuring smile.

The littest werewolf looked hopefully at Remus and asked, "Are you me da now?"

ooo000ooo

Greg Goyle smiled at all the little sprogs running around Vincent's old family home. The place looked better, cleaner? No, it looked brighter, in spite of the fact that there were three dozen lil' nippers running pell-mell around the place. It was a boisterous, loud, happy place.

As Greg put his traveling cloak on a peg Millicent noticed a folded paper sticking out of the inside pocket.

"Whot's this then?" she asked as she pulled out the pamphlet.

On the pamphlet was a caricature of a stupid looking non-magical couple (you could tell they were non-magical because they had "Non-magical" written across their bodies).

It read:

TAKE IT ALL BACK!

It's time for the pureblood race to take its rightful place at the top of the wizarding world.

Mudbloods, halfbloods, half-breeds and even non-humans have taken over wizarding Britain, its time to take it back.

Support only pure bloods in the Wizengamont.

Patronize only full blood wizard establishments.

Support the Sons of the Serpent in their courageous effort to save Magical Britain from those who are trying to destroy it from within!

Millicent held the pamphlet in her fist and shook it at Gregory, "Whot's this about now?"

"Ain't nuthin', Millie, just Theo and some of the mates, y'know?"

"You do know this is how the Dark Lord started doncha?"

"Theo aint done nuthin' darkish, he's just tryin' ta get a gang up fer, y'know, protection is all."

Millie snorted, "Well, give us a hand with this chicken wire then."

Goyle liked working with his hands, and Millie liked it that he did – he was barely a wizard, but didn't mind hard work and he was good with a hammer and saw. Best of all he was good with the kids, when ever the lil' ones came around he always had a kind word for them and usually a treat or two, especially the ones that handed him his tools as he worked setting up chicken runs or nesting boxes.

When little Alicia got her favorite treat, a fresh chocolate frog with a Pythagoras card in it she squealed "Oh thank you Uncle Greg!" the former Slytherin enforcer was too choked up to speak.

Millie gathered him in a huge hug and said "You're just a big softie aintcha?"

"Mebe," he said as he resumed pounding a long thick post into the ground with his heavy headed mallet, "but anyone tries to hurt the sprogs will find out just how soft I ain't!"

"You kin have em' soon as Panz an I are done with em'!"

Goyle chuckled at that and went back to working chicken wire. He had tacked the wire in place and was unrolling the four foot wide spool as Millie steadied the post.

"It's getting' late Greg, you wanna stay for supper?"

He thought about spending more time with Millie and Pansy and the sprogs, then thought of his promise to try to go out with Theo and his mates.

He reasoned that he'd only promised to "try."

"Um, I kinda told Theo I'd go out with him an the mates tonight. . ."

"Think Greg, if you go out with Nott you'll just wake up in your own bed with a bellyful of cheap firewhiskey and a poundin' in your head. If you stay you can have a decent meal, kip in a nice warm bed and not have a hangover in the morning."

"Askin me to spend the night, are you, Millie?" he teased.

"Mebe." She teased back.

Greg was so flummoxed he dropped the roll of metal mesh. He blushed and picked up the roll. He grimaced as he made his decision.

"I like it here Millie, I'd love to stay."

"Just the night then?"

"As long as you need me around here."

"That long?"

"Yep."

ooo000ooo

Thodore Nott the Third looked impressive in his dark cloak. He had just served up the last of the firewhiskey from his grand mum's cellar and was exhorting his gang.

"Tonight we strike a blow for pure blood rights!"

He had mapped out three targets, one in Hogsmeade and two in Diagon Alley. New businesses, recently opened by mudbloods. The uniform for the attacks was a simple dark cloak, obscuring hood in place, no need for masks.

ooo000ooo

Pampered Magical Pets was a new business in Diagon Alley that catered to familiars. They were careful to not directly complete with established businesses, like Eyelops Owl Emporium, but did a bang-up business selling products and offering services for cats, bats, frogs, newts, ravens, owls – you name it. There were half a dozen familiars being boarded overnight. The three sleeping cats, two hedgehogs and one rat died when half a dozen reducto curses shattered the store front. The hooded figures followed the explosive curses with incindios that gutted the structure, reducing the stock to ashes.

"Joe's" was a diner at the other end of Diagon Alley that resembled a large silver trailer. The restaurant sold beans and toast, fish and chips, bangers and mash – y'know, muggle fare for those from non-magical families. The structure rose unsteadily from its foundations levitated by a dozen dark robed hooded figures, rotated at its zenith, and then allowed to drop.

The Play it Again shop in Hogsmeade was a consignment store that featured children's clothing and toys. Wizard children outgrew their clothes at the same rate as muggles and Play it Again, or PiA as it was better known, had been a godsend to young couples just starting out with a baby or two. It received the same treatment as Pampered Magical Pets in the Alley.

No one came forward to take credit for the attacks but the pattern was obvious, and familiar. All three businesses were owned by muggleborns.

At the next session of the Wizengamont both sides of the legislature, in a rare show of solidarity, unanimously condemned these not-so-random attacks on the wizarding community and promised investigations and prosecutions to the full extent of the law.

Theo Nott stared at the Prophet article in utter disbelief.

"Don't they know I'm doin' it for them? Don't they get it?"

ooo000ooo

"Damn!"

"What is it Panz?"

"It's getting colder and we need more jumpers and jackets."

"So? I'll nip on down to PiA. . ." the look on Pansy's face silenced Millicent. "What?"

"PiA got burned out last night!"

"No! Reckon it was an accident?"

"If it was it was catching."

"What do you mean?"

"Joe's and Pampered Pets in the Alley were hit too."

"Oh Jeezus, not again!"

"Looks like."

"Any idea who?"

"Not sure, the Dark Lord was put paid to."

"An I say good riddance!"

"Maybe we can get "Mr. Evans" to look into it?"

"Can't hurt."

ooo000ooo

Harry looked over the Prophet as Kreature poured tea.

"Looks like someone's been up to some mischief."

He handed the front page over to Hermione.

"Three businesses, all owned and operated by muggle-borns." She looked thoughtful for a moment, "if I had to guess, I'd say look for disenfranchised or disgruntled purebloods."

"Or," Harry offered, "It could be a group trying to get us to do just that."

"Occam's Razor."

"What?"

Hermione put down her tea, "Occam's Razor, The principle states that the explanation of any phenomenon should make as few assumptions as possible, eliminating those that make no difference in the observable predictions of the explanatory hypothesis."

"In English, please?"

"The simplest explanation is usually the best."

"Ah. So what do we do?"

"We, Harry? We are not aurors, and frankly I think we should let the ministry handle this one. I think it will be a good first test of the Shacklebolt administration."

Harry nodded. "Could be good for Kingsley at that." Changing the subject he asked, "want to come with me to Pansy's this afternoon?"

"I can't, Harry, I'm helping Ron and Neville with their entrance exams, you remember?"

"Oh yeah, Auror Academy. Neville too?"

Hermione nodded, then asked, "How about you? Didn't you say you wanted to be an auror?"

Harry slumped in his seat.

"I dunno, maybe."

Hermione got up and moved to stand behind him, messaging his shoulders. She knew better than anyone what Harry was going through. The war had taken so much from him, his godfather, his mentor, his fiancé. Family and friends.

"There's no rush Harry, take your time. It's not like you need the money or anything – you can be a philanthropist and build schools and libraries."

"I could buy a quidditch team. . ."

"If you want, you could play professionally." Hermione's heart sank at the thought, most professional quidditch players had to be medically retired early in their careers – it was a deadly rough sport when played at the professional level.

"I could teach flying at Hogwarts. . ."

Hermione perked up, that would be the best of all possible worlds, Harry could stay at the only place he'd ever loved as a home.

"Or we could get married and raise a bunch of kids."

"Can I get back to you on that Harry?" she asked, a single tear streaking down her cheek.

"Of course."

ooo000ooo

Remus, Bella and Odin stepped out of the forbidden forest in the early morning light heading for the Three Broomsticks to have a spot of breakfast. As they had emerged from the trees on the far side of town their path took them past the Parkinson House. The chill made the air clear and smoke and steam rose from several chimneys in the old Crabbe manor. They saw two women carrying overlarge bags from town toward the house.

"Please, let us help" Remus said, startled at his bass profundo voice – the charm around his neck again.

"Oh thank you brother," Pansy said, letting the Druid take a large sack of potatoes off her shoulder.

Millicent didn't ask for any help, and politely declined the offer "It's about the only exercise I get anymore – I was hoping Panz here would get a workout as well."

"I did," Pansy said, exasperatedly, "I carried three stone of potatoes half way up the road."

"Well, I'd hate to deprive you of your workout routine. . ." Lupin said.

"That's okay."

Relieved of her burden Pansy saw the odd trio for the first time.

"Um, brother," she asked, "Isn't it odd for a Druid to be working so closely with a Daughter of Vesta, I mean, Druids are ascetic, but not celibate and the Good Sister here is. . ."

"Brother David and I work very well together, his devotions coincide with my own and it's very reassuring to have him with me when I make my obeisance to the Goddess.

Millie looked down and saw Odin, in his miniature druid's robe.

"And who is this wise little one?"

"I'm Odin, and these are my Mum and Da!"

An awkward silence followed until Bella said.

"Yes, Odin is our son. He was placed in our path by the Goddess and we pledged to care for him until such time that he will not need us anymore."

Odin looked proudly up at his adoptive parents.

"Hey, it's no different from us having three dozen sprogs between us!"

It was Bella and Remus's turn to look awkwardly at their traveling companions.

Millie offered the explanation, "Pansy and I run the Parkinson house, it's a home for kids in need. We had a run-in with Umbitch, um, I mean Umbridge from the Ministry and adopted the whole lot of them. So now we're a family with two full-time Mums and three dozen hyperactive sprogs.

"Y'know, Brother David, Sister, um, Sister?"

"Bellanca." Remus and Bella said simultaneously.

"Sister Bellanca," Pansy gamely continued, we could use some more hands at the house and the kids would benefit from the any lessons you could offer them. . ."

"Chaplins in residence, so to speak?"

"Might get a little more help from the DoME, y'know the Department of Magical Education."

The party of five arrived at the gate to Parkinson House and Remus helped with breakfast as Bella went to a dark room to "perform her devotions," Actually she was taking a long morning's nap. She might be a daywalker but the bright winter's sun still drained her.

The Druid and the Vestal Virgin were given rooms that were divided by a common shower and WC. Odin insisted on sleeping with one or the other or both – which raised a few eyebrows.

Later that night, as tiny Odin slept at the foot of Bella's bed she and Remus had a long overdue talk.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, my lady?"

"Afraid I'll eat one of the sprogs?"

"Well. . ."

"Look, I have places to go that are just a floo call away, please don't fear for the safety of these children."

"I guess I just needed to hear you say that, my lady."

"Remus, please call me Bella."

"But you are my, um, lady, my lady."

"Your mind is completely your own, Remus."

He looked a bit sheepish, "it wasn't last nigh, my, um Bella."

"I didn't enthrall you, Remus, that was just my natural wolf's, ah, animal attraction."

"It was wonderful, but I felt so guilty this morning."

"It was the wolf, Remus, it wasn't you. You didn't throw me down and shag me rotten in the middle of the meadow; our _other_ selves were just attracted to each other."

"Perfectly natural." He insisted.

"Perfectly." She agreed.

"So," he asked, "Will we be doing our "devotions" in the forest tonight. . ."

"Oh, absolutely."


	14. Chapter 13: More Equal than Others

Chapter 13 – More Equal than Others

Bella knelt in front of Odin so that all he could see was her deep purple gaze.

"Look deep into my eyes, Odin, do not fight the change; flow into your shape. Follow us into your true nature."

Little Odin whimpered, afraid, still he not dared not stop.

Remus's soothing voice urged, "Do not dare not to dare. . ."

Bolstered by the love and support of his beloved Mum and Da he poured his being into the wolf cub form. It was less a lycan transformation than it was an animagus coming into his own.

Odin yipped and flipped joyfully! It hadn't hurt! For the first time ever he was four legged and free! Best of all the full moon hadn't risen yet – it wouldn't for the next 28 days in any case but what did that matter? He was surrounded by his family and he was free to scamper into the forest to play and to run and to chase the small animals and feast on rabbit and vole.

Remus and Bella followed their son-in-love into the forest only to discover the joy of a wolf cub is very contagious. They romped and played, rolling over each other until they were a mass of grey, white and dark brown fur gamboling in the late afternoon.

Of the three only Bella had full command of her faculties. Vampires are fully aware of their surroundings no matter what form they take. She gave little Odin a thrill when she jumped impossibly high over a fallen tree and, at the zenith of her leap, transformed into a large white bat, which swooped and dipped playfully with the cub.

Finally she landed on the trunk of a tree and transformed back into the white wolf just before the cub pounced on her back. She rolled over with him still on her shoulders, as he playfully nipped at her ear.

The three shape shifters would have been content to stay in their animal forms forever, but a higher purpose drove Bella and Remus. They had too much to do in the wizarding community to escape their obligations completely. But tonight was for family. Tomorrow they would get back to work.

ooo000ooo

The leader of the Sons of the Serpent paced the floor of the master bedroom in his London apartment while clutching the dark, leather-bound book to his breast. Theodore Nott the Third was in a quandary. He had his "army," a ragtag bunch of pureblood misfits who mooched off him for room and board. He had his Pureblood Manifesto.

What he didn't have was a powerbase – he just wasn't imposing enough and he knew it. Hell, Billy Avery was shorter than him and a good two stone lighter but when little Billy got angry no one, and I mean no one got in his way. What was that old saying? "It's not the size of the dog in the fight that matters, it the size of the fight in the dog."

He needed to ramp up the size of the fight in the top dog of the Sons of the Serpent, or he'd be relegated to the role of lackey. He looked again at the book in his hands – "Soul Majiks Most Darke." The book promised to make him strong and most importantly, ruthless. He just hoped he had enough backbone to complete the first ritual.

The first task was murder.

He had to kill someone in cold blood.

ooo000ooo

Alison Farington watched the wolf family in utter fascination – she didn't realize the danger she was in. Werewolves have been conditioned over the centuries to attack humans first – before the humans can kill them.

Alison had seen the odd cleric family walk into the forest and wanted to see what their "devotions" entailed. She watched, mesmerized, as the trio knelt. She was a little puzzled by the fact that they seemed to be naked – hard to tell over the distance and through the trees. Then in a wink where there had been three people there were, instead, three dogs? No, not dogs; wolves.

She laughed to herself as she watched the lycans, two adults and one cute little baby cub, gambol and play. She remembered her chores and grudgingly tore her gaze away from the frolicking group to go back to feeding the chickens.

ooo000ooo

"Hermione?" Ron asked; concern evident in his voice.

The distracted brunette shook her head, then, realizing where she was and what she was supposed to be doing read the question aloud.

"Citizens of the U.K., magical and non-magical alike are protected by?"

"Common Wizarding Statutes and Due Process of Law, c'mone Hermione, you've already asked us that one – twice!"

She closed the book and shook her head as if trying to dislodge something stuck there.

"I'm sorry Ronald, Neville, I guess I have been a little distracted this week."

"A _little_ distracted? And a hurricane is a little wind, and a hypogriff is a little sensitive over being insulted."

"Maybe we should call it quits for today, I am, um,"

"Yes, we know. A little distracted." Ron finished for her.

She had the good graces to look sheepish.

"Neville, could you give us a few minutes here please, mate?"

"I'll just go into the kitchen and give Luna a floo call, she's supposed to come over tonight."

"Thanks, Nev."

Ron turned to his best friend and asked straight out.

"What is it?"

"It's Harry."

"Is he any better?"

"Kind of, he's still really depressed. He asked me if I wanted to marry him and have lots of babies."

This made Ron pause before asking, "And you said?"

"I asked him if I could please get back to him on that."

Ron gently took the study guide from her before taking her hands into his own.

"You know I love you, don't you Hermione?"

A tear streaked down her cheek and she nodded.

"He loves you too."

She sobbed and fell into his embrace.

"You've got to tell him sooner or later."

"I know, Ron, I know. It's just too soon - too soon."

ooo000ooo

Michael Waddington had always been large for his age. The Waddingtons were a moderately successful family, not ancient, not noble but a vassal house aligned with the ancient and noble houses of Black and Malfoy. He had been raised most of his ten years to expect privilege and deference from his peers. That all came crashing down in the war. He had been fighting with other children over scraps pulled from the garbage behind Diagon Alley when Mama Pansy had found him. She brought him home, showed him a different path.

Problem was, he still longed for the days when he was a pampered pure-blood prince. He was just the sort of potential convert the Sons of the Serpent were looking for.

When Mama Millie asked for volunteers to help her carry some stuff back from the village Michael was there. Millie had a soft spot for Michael; she knew what it was like to be the abnormally big kid in her class. That was the main reason she took Michael with her, more often than not, when she went into the village. Michael followed as he always did; carrying the ever increasing sacks of dry goods and fresh produce.

The man was there, as usual, in the dry goods store. The man always had a kind word for Michael, and a treat; and a question.

Hello Michael, have a biscuit."

"So, how many kids from pureblood families are at Parkinson House?"

"Do you think any of them would like to see the old ways come back?"

"Cockroach cluster?"

"Wouldn't _you_ like to see the old ways come back?"

"Would you like to live in your own big manor house and not have to share a room or a table with a bunch of other kids?"

"Have another chocolate frog."

"Read this, doesn't it make sense that purebloods are better than lesser bloods?"

"How many grownups are at Parkinson House?"

"Here, have a drooble."

"I'll bet you have lots of wards protecting you over there."

"Have a ginger newt."

It all came to a head at dinner when Pansy chided Michael for taking the last drumstick, when he still had one on his plate and it was obvious that Cheryl wanted one.

"But I get it cause I'm entitled is what."

Michael had said this with such conviction that Cheryl herself couldn't not believe him.

Pansy on the other hand looked as though all the blood had drained from her face. Millie knew why. "Pure blood privilege" was a concept that was practiced in Slytherin house. Millie, a half-blood, accepted as fact that the pure bloods would always have the first and the best when it came to choosing anything.

Neither one of them had even mentioned the concept in the Parkinson house.

"Where did you hear that, Michael?"

Pansy surprised herself – she sounded absolutely calm as she took the chicken leg from her own plate and placed it on Cheryl's. The little ginger haired girl smiled and gushed her thanks.

"Oh ever' body knows that Mama Pansy."

"I've never said anything like that in this house" Pansy said, which was true. She'd been the recipient of "Pure Blood Privilege" often enough in Slytherin House and now the very concept made her ashamed of herself.

"Michael," Millie asked kindly, "what do all the children call Pansy?"

"Mama Pansy."

"And is Mama Pansy a pureblood?"

"Yes'm."

"Then all the children at Parkinson House are purebloods, right?"

Michael looked confused, "But the man at the dry goods store told me that purebloods are better."

"Better than who?"

"Um, anyone else?"

"But you just said we're all purebloods."

"Can you be pureblood if'n you ain't born to it?"

"Look around you Michael."

He did. And he was uncomfortable knowing that dozens of conversations had stopped to listen to the lesson he was getting.

"Everyone you see here is the same. Everyone who lives in Parkinson house is the same. Oh some of you are a little older, and some of you are a little smarter but you are all my children. . ."

Her gaze was piercing and full of promise when she looked back at Michael.

". . . equally!"

"Um," Michael asked, "Cheryl, would you like a leg?"

"No thank you, Michael, but Mama Pansy might be glad of one."

He sheepishly placed the chicken leg on Pansy's plate using his fork and knife.

Later that night Pansy and Millie and Harry in his guise as Uncle James told the story of the half-blood who used lies and scare tactics to become the most feared dark lord of the 20th century, and most importantly, how it was a united group of magical citizens, pureblood, muggleborn and even some non-human magical creatures who defeated him.

The teachers, volunteers all, made sure to emphasize the importance of hard work and perseverance over blood status in the upcoming lessons.

Pansy went with Millie and Michael to Hogsmeade Dry Goods Emporium the following day. She studied the bolts of fabric as Millie stocked up on flour and sugar, bartering with eggs from the chicken farm.

"Hello Michael," she heard from over the next shelf – she strained to hear, the voice sounded familiar. Pansy used the disillusionment charm that Harry had taught her then moved closer, the better to hear the conversation.

"Hullo sir." Michael answered sheepishly.

"Anything wrong?"

"Um, no sir, I mean, I was wondering if. . ." he looked up at the man as if expecting something.

"Ah, I'll bet you'll like these, they're called "Mistletoads," they are gummy little frogs that taste like fresh picked apples.

"Thank you, sir!"

"All the wards around the house, they're keyed your, ah, family?"

Michael nodded, speaking around the gummy toads, he said, "allus kids get a band, see?"

The boy held his arm up showing off the blue band that read "PB"

"PB?" the man asked.

"Yeah, we call em' peanut butter, but the 'nitials stand for Mamma Pansy and Mamma Millie, "P" for Parkinson and "B" for Bulstrode."

"What if you lose your band?"

"Then we gotta wait til another kid brings Mama Pansy with a new one."

"Could you loan yours to someone else?"

Michael shook his head, "Nope, tried that. Julie left hers out by the rooster house and I tried to give her mine, y'know, to get back in the house?"

The man nodded. "And?"

"An it didn't work. She couldn't get in the house."

"Interesting, here, have another mistletoad."

"What's interestin'?"

"Oh, just that the house is warded but not the grounds."

Michael just shrugged, then politely said, "Thank you for the mistletoads, sir."

"Not at all Michael, I'm just glad you like them, be sure to tell all your friends."

With that the man closed his sample case, which read "Honeydukes Finest," and started to leave, only to find himself flat on his back facing two wands and an irate shopkeeper.

"Zabini," the shopman said, "I let you peddle your wares in my store on account of I done a lot of business with your mum, but these witches tell me you been spendin' an inordinate amount of time with one of their lil' boys, izzat true?"

"Hey, I 'ent so little!" Michael objected.

"I'm just letting the rest of the kiddies know were to get the good stuff, Chas, y'know, let one sample the goods and the rest will flock to my stall."

Millie lowered her wand, "The way I see it, Blaise here is just tryin' ta get by, just like the rest of us."

Zabini nodded slowly, trying not to look as worried as he obviously was.

"Yeah, my family lost all our money in the war, just like yours."

"Of course, that don't explain how it is you're tryin' to recruit Michael here into your little club, nor why you're so interested in the wards around Crabb's old place."

Blaise managed to maintain his cool for almost ten seconds before he lunged, still flat on his back, for his sample case, specifically the tag attached to one side.

"Stupefy!"

Both girls looked surprised at Chas, the shopkeeper.

"I spent most of my adult life kowtowing to people like him cause they had the money and the influence and the "breeding"," he spat on the ground.

"Never again, by gods, never again!"

"Well," Millie asked, "whotcha wanna do with this one; the usual?"

"Hey, the Hag's Hump pays us ten galleons for every pretty boy we deliver."

"Yeah, but this is Zabini, he'll probably like it."

"Maybe at first. . ."

ooo000ooo

Blaise Zabini came to his senses with his head down on a wooden surface that reeked of old beer and spirits. He was sitting on a barstool and someone had a hand firmly planted on his bum.

He sat up straight and was shocked for just a moment at his reflection in the bar mirror.

He was wigged and painted up like a cheap whore. He was in a skirt that was so short that it barely covered his arse, which was being fondled by the large, smelly demi-troll sitting on the stool next to his.

He tugged the top of his narrow tube top; to get a look his grapefruit sized breasts. He was disappointed at the size.

"Hmmm, the bints might have at least given me a decent pair of knockers" he looked at the stevedore attached to the hand that was attached to his bum batted his long eyelids and asked, "got a wand, sweetie?"

The man held up what looked like a foreshortened tree branch, as Blaise reached for it the trollish voice ordered, "no funny stuff now!"

Zabini snuggled closer to him and said, "Mate, you've got me well and truly by the short and curlies, what can I do?

The quasi-troll grunted and handed over his wand.

Blaise pointed at his breasts and said, "_engorgio_!" All the men in the bar drooled at the comically enlarged boobs straining the fabric of the thin tube top.

"Better," he said, and then, placing the thick tip of the wand under the burly man's chin, he shouted "reducto!"

The back of the man's head exploded in a fine red mist.

Zabini sashayed out of the Hag's Hump. He didn't mind being manhandled; he just wanted to choose the man doing the handling. He was a Zabini, after all, and a boy had to have his standards.

ooo000ooo

Pansy and Millie hurried back to the house with Michael in tow. They burst into the great room and Millie rang the dinner bell two short rings and one long, then repeated the pattern two more times. This was the alarm signal; all the older kids took charge of one or two of the younger ones and assembled at the long tables.

Greg Goyle had one child under each arm, scowling as if to dare anyone to try and touch them. Millie's heart melted at the sight.

Pansy smirked at her oldest female friend, "Their babies will be huge!" She thought to herself.

"Everyone," she started, "there's nothing to be overly worried about but we're not taking any chances."

She waited while Millie fetched the boxes that Harry had brought the week before.

"Niners and up!"

She was referring to the nine and ten year olds, the big kids in the group. They dutifully came forward and each received a long, thin box.

"These are spell sticks, not wands, really, because they can only do two things, a freeze hex and sparks. You must remember, only use these in real emergencies, as soon as you do the Ministry will send aurors to wherever you are."

Millie gave the last stick to Michael Waddington, who looked with awe at the "almost wand."

"From now on no one and I _mean_ no one, Alison," Pansy focused on her original sprog. "No one goes off alone.

"Use the rule of three, no less than three kids anywhere away from our house, and one of those three have to be nine or ten years old."

Pansy was so distraught as she said this that she turned away so that her children wouldn't see her tears. Millie stood and enfolded her in her arms.

"Kids, make no mistake, there's them out there that want to hurt you, hurt us. What we gotta do is not give em' the chance, alright?"

Some of the younger children, sensing the fear radiating from the Mamas began to cry.

A clear, bright tenor voice cut across the room, singing:

"Hi! says the blackbird, sitting on a chair,  
Once I courted a lady fair;  
She proved fickle and turned her back,  
And ever since then I'm dressed in black."

Pansy turned to see Gregory finish the first verse of the popular children's song, then joined in the second verse.

"Hi! says the blue-jay as she flew,  
If I was a young man I'd have two;  
If one proved fickle and chanced for to go,  
I'd have a new string to my bow."

The older children joined in.

"Hi! says the little leather winged bat,  
I will tell you the reason that,  
The reason that I fly in the night  
Is because I lost my heart's delight.

By now the whole house sang.

"Hi! says the little mourning dove,  
I'll tell you how to gain her love;  
Court her night and court her day,  
Never give her time to say "0 nay!""

By the time the last verse came around the feeling of doom and gloom had vanished.

"Hi! says the robin, with a little squirm,  
I wish I had a great, big worm;  
I would fly away into my nest;  
I have a wife I think is the best!"

This was the scene that Sister Bellanca, Brother David and Little Brother Odin walked in on. They sang along with the other children and followed Pansy to her quarters. Greg started to follow but Millie grabbed him by the front of his robe and soundly kissed him in front of all the squealing sprogs.

Pandemonium followed, but it was a good pandemonium.

ooo000ooo

The title of this chapter comes from George Orwell's Animal Farm, a wonderful allegorical description of Soviet style totalitarianism. The whole line is "All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others."


	15. Chapter 14: Long Live the Queen

Chapter 14 – Long Live the Queen

Pansy led Remus and Bella in their guises as Brother David and Sister Bellanca into her room. She didn't close the door because she wanted her children to know she wasn't hiding anything from them, but she needed some adult advice.

"I think this new sect, the "Sons of the Serpent" is trying to recruit us, or neutralize us; whichever is easiest for them."

Bella had heard of them. In her bi-weekly visits to London's Sanguinaria she had heard more and more mention of them. They were blanketing the magical community with leaflets deploring the current state of wizarding Britain and calling for a return to the "good old ways."

Pure blood pap if she'd ever heard it – and she had. As a young adult she'd actually bought into it. She could see a kindred spirit in Pansy, who had also been a child of the pureblood elite.

Pureblood, halfblood, muggleblood. None of that mattered to Bella, by now she'd had all of them and they all tasted the same. As long as she got her twice-weekly requirement she was sanguine about the source.

"I'm trying not to panic the sprogs, but I am worried. We've warded the house and extended the detection wards to well beyond the chicken farm, but I don't want to build a fence around the property – I don't want the kids thinking we're caging them in."

Remus and Bella shared a look that Pansy almost missed – like the silent communication between two bonded mates.

"We can defend the house and grounds," Sister Bellanca offered. "We can even divide the watch between us."

"The good sister is something of an insomniac," Brother David said by way of an explanation, "she can watch by night and I can take over during the day.

Pansy nodded. She knew that Druids and Daughters of Vesta were peaceful by nature but could be called upon to fight if necessary.

The druid held up three fingers, then raised his eyebrows.

The vestal virgin half smiled and nodded her agreement.

"What is it Brother David?" Pansy asked.

"The Law of Three." Bellanca said after a few moments.

"What you wish for me and mine comes back three times for thee and thine." Pansy recited, "Isn't that just a, um, I don't know, a cliché?"

"Not when it's tied to blood wards around your property."

Pansy's grin was practically predatory. She bared both her arms and asked, "How much do you need?"

"To be effective we'd need a drop from everyone who calls Parkinson House home."

"When do we start?"

ooo000ooo

Theo Nott entered the master bedroom of his grand mum's London apartment and saw a very curvaceous, dark beauty in his bed. She'd kicked her shoes off and was sitting against the headboard reading a book with her knees drawn up giving him a nice view of white panties under an impossibly short skirt. The book wasn't big enough to hide unbelievably huge boobs.

Theo's mouth started to water and his trousers were becoming too tight.

"I don't think I've had the pleasure." Nott said trying to sound smooth but coming off Leisure Suit Larry smarmy.

"And you won't, you wanker, unless you swing my way." The distinctively male voice of Blaise Zabini answered. He lowered the book, "Soul Majiks Most Darke" with a smirk.

"Merlin's Balls Zabini, what the fuck are you playing at!" The dark lord wannabee screamed. "An where the fuck did you get those?" he insisted, pointing at Blaise's boobs.

He shrugged and said, "From a mutual friend of ours. Look we need to talk; who's here?"

"You and me, Avery, Goyle _was_ here but I haven't seen him in a week."

"You won't see him; he's shacked up with Parkinson and her cow of a slag girlfriend."

"He's doin' Parkinson? Whot's he got that I ain't?"

"I don't know that he's doing Parkinson, but I'm pretty sure he's in tight with Bulstrode."

"Oh man, I hope she's on the potion. The babies would be bloody huge!"

"Whatever," Zabini didn't need the mental picture of those two behemoths "doin' it."

"Just you me and Avery then."

"You gonna change back anytime soon?"

"I dunno, maybe I want to get in touch with my feminine side, why?"

"Maybe you could put on a robe or something?"

"Making you uncomfortable, am I, Nott?"

He blushed and nodded.

"Good."

ooo000ooo

The setting sun was just above tree top level when Bella led Remus and Odin back into the forest. Alison had been watching little Odin and was curious – had she seen what she thought she had seen the evening before?

She put on her wellies and tromped out to the feed barn – it was her week to feed the chickens. She took the pail and filled it with feed and then kalumped around to the troughs as hungry chickens followed behind hoping for spillage. Some kids were clumsier than others.

After the last trough was filled Alison put away the bucket and walked to the edge of the forest.

"Can't go inta the forest, gotta have three." She reminded herself. Then she remembered, "They's already three in there!"

With that unassailable bit of logic she followed the tracks into the woods.

She saw the three wolves again, playing in the same clearing as the evening before. The littlest wolf was rolling around on the ground with the big grey. Alison couldn't suppress her gleeful laugh.

She stopped as all three wolves suddenly sprang to their feet and looked in her direction, hackles raised, growling menacingly. Alison was transfixed by sheer panic – she didn't know whether to run or try to scramble up a tree. Only problem was she couldn't move, frozen in fear. A warm yellow stream coursed down her left leg and pooled in her rubber Wellington.

The three wolves padded slowly in Alison's direction, stopped, then sniffed the air.

"Don't see me, don't see me, oh God please don't let them see me!"

The cub wasn't cute anymore, he was terrifying, and he was nothing compared to the grey wolf all teeth and anger.

Then an amazing thing happened, the white wolf morphed into the shape of a beautiful woman with flowing dark hair. The woman placed a hand each on the two remaining wolves and said.

"Don't be afraid, Alison, they won't hurt you – you just frightened them."

The relief that poured through the little girl was so profound that she hiccoughed and began to cry.

Bella pulled her robe from the low tree branch where she'd stowed it before, along with her wand. She clasped the garment in place with the broach at her shoulder and knelt down to comfort the panic stricken Alison.

"Mama Pansy told you not to go off on your own."

"I wasn't on my own, I was with you and then you, you, you're all werewolves!" Panic began to rear its ugly head again.

"Listen Alison, listen!" Bella waited until she was sure she had the girl's undivided attention. "Have you ever heard of a werewolf changing on any night but a full moon?"

She shook her head, looking dubious.

"You see the moon?"

Alison looked up and saw the moon in its waning phase, well past full.

"So, if you're not were-werewolves," she stuttered, "what?"

"Do you know what an animagus is, dear?"

She shook her head.

"An animagus can choose when to become a special animal."

Alison's eyes grew wide, "Then you 'ent werewolves!"

"We're wolves when we choose to be, but that doesn't mean we're not dangerous. Here, let me introduce you."

Bella looked into Remus's amber eyes and said, "This is Allison, she is of the pack, and the pack cares for its own."

The large wolf shook himself and lowered his hackles. Bella said the same thing to the cub Odin.

"Let them sniff you dear."

Alison's eyes grew wide as she realized how large the wolves really were. Standing on all fours the grey wolf came up to her shoulders, and the cub was as tall as her waist.

Remus got down on his belly and scooted close enough for Alison to touch him. Seeing the alpha male's behavior, Odin followed suit.

Bella unobtrusively as possible performed a cleaning charm on Alison, removing the evidence of her "little accident."

"Turn around, dear."

Bella helped Remus and Odin back into their human forms, then handed each his druid's robes.

"Okay Alison, you can turn back now."

Alison was so relieved to see "Brother David" and Odin that she hugged them both. Then she and the little boy ran back to the manor.

"I'm glad you were here, my lady vampire." Remus said, I shudder to think of what would have happened if you hadn't been."

"It was you who accepted Alison as part of the pack, I only suggested it."

"I think we need to get all the sprogs acclimated to our inner wolves, don't you think?"

"An excellent idea, my lord werewolf."

ooo000ooo

Just after sunrise a lone figure entered Parkinson House laden with gifts looking like an underfed Father Christmas. Harry was delighted to see Sister Bellanca again and hugged her.

"Sister, please, come sit by the fire. You're frozen stiff."

"Thank you Harry, I did just come in from the cold."

"Sister Bellanca has been patrolling all night," Brother David explained, "I was just going to put her to bed."

This caused several eyebrows to rise.

"To sleep I mean, you understand, right?" he asked feebly.

"Um, sure," Harry said, "of course."

The good sister stood tall and faced all the adults in the room.

"I am a Daughter of Vesta, but I am also a woman. I have sworn myself to celibacy, true," she captured Remus with her gaze, "but I can love.

"There is a deeper bond than even sex, and the good Brother and I share this bond."

"Brother David" stood by the Daughter of Vesta, "what do you know of Vestal Virgins, Harry?"

"Um, their pious, they keep the fires going, they're, um, celibate." Harry offered.

"And they serve the Goddess Vesta for three decades, after which time they are free to leave the order." Remus explained, while looking Bella in the eye.

"I think when that happens I will be ready for the next step."

Bella smiled, "Imbolic will mark the end of my service to Vesta. Will you be ready by then?"

Bearded as he was you could see the warm smile on Remus's face. "I think I will be, my, um Sister Bellanca."

Everyone in the room exchanged looks as if to say, "Did we just witness a bonding pledge?"

"And Druids, as you know, are anything but celibate."

ooo000ooo

Nott and Avery sat at a small table with Zabini, who was wearing a charm on a velvet choker that raised his voice an octave. Avery couldn't keep his eyes off the enormous breasts across the table from him. Blaise had a book open on the seat of a chair that Nott had pulled up for him.

"Billy. . . _Billy!_" Theo nearly shouted.

"What?" he sounded annoyed because he was being distracted from his distractions.

"We need to stay focused here."

"Yeah," Billy thought, looking back at Blaise's boobs, "focused."

"D'you think you can get into and out of Crabb's old place without being caught?"

Billy shrugged, "Probably. What is it I'm looking for again?

"The key, Billy, remember? The key to the weapon's storehouse here in London."

Billy Avery looked back at Blaise and seemed puzzled. "Are you sure I don't know you from somewhere, darlin'? You look awful bloody familiar."

Blaise leaned forward on the small table; his large fleshy globes resting on the tabletop close enough to Avery to touch.

"Look closer."

Billy Avery leaned forward.

"My eyes are up here, Billy."

He looked up.

The knife was so sharp and the movements so quick that Billy didn't even feel the steel severing his carotid arteries along with his throat.

He looked puzzled for a moment, tried to speak and only gurgled.

Blaise held the bloody stiletto up so that it was the last thing that Billy saw in this life. He pitched forward, his face landing in the soft, warm globes he'd been admiring all through dinner. Blaise pressed Billy's lifeless face into his breasts and kissed the top of his head.

He checked the text once more before intoning "_servo is meus animus, servo is meus animus, servo is meus animus._"

The knife glowed a deep, blood red for a moment then faded to grey.

Theodore Nott the Third knew what Zabini had done. He'd been studying the spell for weeks, just waiting for the right victim to fall into his hands. Zabini had done it, he'd completed the ritual. He'd split his soul, making the murder weapon a soul vessel. A horcrux.

Nott was about to scream at the transsexual transvestite but was shocked into silence by two things. One, the cold, calculating, almost bloodless way in which he had killed their schoolmate and two, the physical changes in Zabini. He was paler, more gaunt. And the pupils of his eyes glowed with a slight red tint.

"Problem, Theo?"

Nott was not as stupid as he sometimes let on. "No Blaise, no problems at all."

"Good, I'm a little drained for some reason, be a good boy and clean this mess up?"

Nott just nodded.

He knew without a doubt that the focus of power had shifted, he'd just become irrelevant. He needed to ingratiate himself to Blaise or he'd wind up just like Billy.

The king is dead, long live the queen.


	16. Chapter 15: We're What?

Chapter 15 – We're What?

The two aurors had seen battle. They had killed to defend their homes and families in the latest war. They'd seen burned and mangled corpses; but until today they hadn't seen this level of brutality, ruthlessness and depravity. The scene before them was enough to make them physically sick.

It was just a pawn shop, the kind that seemed to flourish in Margin Alley and other places where a quick galleon could be made if you didn't ask too many questions. It had been run by a middle aged couple, Will and Wynona Jones and staffed by their daughter, Beth and her two children, Ben and Wilma.

The children had been butchered, disemboweled – their entrails strewn around the shop. The pawnbroker's wife and daughter had been raped to death. Will had been forced to watch, even as he was being tortured into insanity.

The coffers of the Sons of the Serpent filled steadily as they guaranteed protection from the predators that seemed to be hovering over Knockturn, Margin, and Diagon Alleys. They offered the symbol of their protection, a small green banner with a coiled snake. For a reasonable fee, and "consideration" for any Benevolent Son members who offered their custom.

The shop and restaurant owners had seen it before, and shrugged their shoulders.

"It's jus' part o' doin' business. Will got greedy is all; didn't want ta pay is whot. We all pays, one way or t'other!"

Of course, the dark beauty with the incredibly large, um, "assets," kinda took the sting out of paying the protection. And the bottom line was; it was cheaper to pay the premiums than to try and complain, or worse yet, not pay at all. Will Jones found that out the hard way, hadn't he?

The public face of the Sons of the Serpent was that of a benevolent organization, Blaise began to appear in the popular press as a combination of Mother Teresa and Naomi Campbell. Many of Zabini's former classmates were confused; frankly they couldn't remember whether Blaise had been a girl or a boy.

The inner sanctum of the organization was anything but benevolent. It was all about the fast road to power and influence. Those who supported the Benevolent Sons found their competition drying up, sometimes within days of coming around to their philosophy. Any who openly opposed them were often the victims of horrific violence or lethal accidents. Their own fault, of course.

As the Benevolent Son's organization and influence grew the fortunes of the Parkinson House began to wane. Businesses couldn't afford to be as charitable as the moneys spent for protection dried up their discretionary income. Pansy and Millie found themselves more and more having to appeal to wealthy patrons for support.

ooo000ooo

Bella carefully folded away her vestments. In some ways she had enjoyed being Sister Bellanca, but she had too much respect for the Daughters of Vesta to continue the charade. Then there was Remus to consider. Pairings between vampires and werewolves were rare, not that vampires didn't often take werewolves as companions, but she and Remus had already formed a bond, their wolf forms had mated. And wolves mate for life.

How long would she live; hundreds, perhaps even thousands of years? She could keep Remus alive longer than the average wizard life span, but that would only be about a century and a half.

This is why vampires didn't let themselves love – it was too painful when their chosen mates withered and died like mayflies against their own endless lifetime.

But Eliza Shakespeare, her ancestress, had spoken so fondly of her own werewolf partners.

"They may not last long, love, but never did a fire burn so brightly!"

Remus insisted that Bella take at least one meal a week from him.

"I heal quickly." He'd persisted, "And I can regenerate blood faster as well."

What Remus didn't yet realize was that sharing blood with a vampire is a more intimate act, better really, than sex. Because he gave his life's blood freely it was even more so.

They had shared every intimacy except one. Remus could not bring himself to make love to her when they were in their human forms. He still felt the loss of his beloved Dora and in a very real way was still faithful to his late wife.

Sometimes he wished that Bella would simply enthrall him and make him forget. The fact that she didn't astounded him, and made him love her all the more.

As Imbolc drew near Remus realized that he would have to maintain his Druid persona, or move to the continent or the Americas. He could take a wife as a Druid, and he had no doubt that Bellanca would be willing to fill that role, but he worried that she might not want to be burdened with a lycan for the next few decades. He would grow old and die – she would not.

ooo000ooo

Ian regarded the dark girl with distain.

"Just to be perfectly plain on this," he said, as if to a slow child, "your 'Benevolent Sons of the Serpent' will guarantee the security of my restaurant and the safety of my patrons for a monetary consideration?"

"Bi-weekly." Blaise clarified.

"Ah, I see." And he did, "the cost of protecting us has risen in the past few weeks, has it?"

"Please understand, Mr. Ian," Zabini said in a sweetly sultry voice, "my organization has proven its worth many times over, protecting those who accept us from the predators and dark creatures that would do us harm. Not a single home or business flying our banner has been harassed – not one!"

"I see, Miss Blaise. And I do appreciate your offer of protection. I just don't see the immediacy as you seem to."

"Well, I hope we can still be friends." The dark beauty said sweetly. "I do love your eclectic cuisine."

"And you are always welcome, my dear." Ian said, bending at the waist to buss the second knuckle of the offered hand.

As the overly endowed visitor sashayed away Ian thought to himself, "Large knuckles on that girl."

Blaise was seething, that little old cockroach didn't "see the immediacy, did he?" That night he would understand immediacy.

Theodore Nott the Third stepped from the nearby alleyway, dressed in formal evening clothes – Blaise wanted a night on the town.

"Well?"

"We're going to have a nice dinner, a few drinks. Then take in some of the hot spots: The Fly, maybe Prince Albert's."

"It went well then?" Nott asked.

"Smashing, it went so well that somewhere around ten o'clock tonight we're going to seal all the doors and windows, even those in the cellar, and then we're going to burn that place to bedrock."

Blaise's smile was predatory. "Nothing will be left and no one gets out alive, understood?"

Theo gulped audibly, "Yeah, I got it."

ooo000ooo

Three couples sat around the table enjoying a large fireplace, good food and excellent company. Luna, who had finally dropped the "loony" persona was a good natured prankster was keeping Neville entertained with her quirky smile and hilarious innuendos. Ron was being very solicitous to Hermione who seemed a bit under the weather. Hermione did seem a bit drawn, but insisted she was having a better time than she'd had since she didn't know when. Harry sat with Padma Patil; not so much a couple as a couple of good friends out on the town. Had it really only been seven months since the defeat of the Dork Lord?

Dinner was served, Tandoori chicken all around. Everyone at the table loved curry so much, in all its incarnations that Harry was moved to make a formal announcement.

"Henceforth," he said, importantly rising from his seat, "I propose that all seated here, and any guests they may deign to bring, should return to this fine establishment every third Thursday to enjoy the great food, wonderful wine, delicious curry and most importantly, excellent company!"

All present raised a glass of whatever they were drinking, in the boy's case a good stout. Luna raised a red wine, Padma and Hermione club sodas.

"Hear, hear!"

Their timing couldn't have been better as the enormous clay pot arrived with skewers of meat and vegetables.

Hermione took a deep breath, inhaling the aromas when her eyes went wide she looked in a panic at Ron who looked back equally alarmed.

"It's time." She whispered.

Ron nodded and put her traveling cloak around her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, everybody," she said with obviously forced cheer, "I have to go now. No, no. Don't get up, I'll be fine. Ron's just taking me home. Nothing to worry about." she quick stepped Ron out the door.

"Padma?"

There was a ghost of a smile when Padma told him "Go on Harry, find her."

He kissed her on the cheek and said "You're the best Padma, thank you!"

The Indian girl touched the cheek that he had just kissed and, with a heavy sigh, downed the remainder of Harry's stout in one long gulp.

Harry saw the triple decker Knight Bus just in time to jump on. He heard Ron say "St. Mungo's, and hurry!"

All the blood seemed to pool at Harry's feet.

St. Mungo's?

Hermione had to go to the hospital?

She was deathly ill and he didn't know?

Harry ran to her side and was shocked to see that she was enormously pregnant and grimacing in pain.

ooo000ooo

Pansy was looking over her ledgers as Millie knocked on the doorframe of her office / bedroom.

"Millie? You look worried."

"I am. A bit."

"How about a cuppa?"

The big girl nodded and the two of them went to the kitchen where there was always a kettle on.

Bernard was on kitchen duty tonight and he took his responsibility very seriously. As soon as the "Mums" were seated he placed the tea service out and poured two cups. With a cute little flourish he added one sugar for Pansy Mum, two sugars and a spot of milk for Millie Mum.

"Thank you Bernard."

The boy placed a tea towel over his arm and half bowed, "anything else Mums? I have a tin of biscuits from Fortescue's."

Millie brightened, "That would be perfect, thank you Bernard."

"Not atoll Mum!" he said brightly, feeling as if he'd made his Mum's day. Maybe he had.

"Now, what's the matter?"

"Well, you know how we "fixed" Blaise?"

"Yes."

"Well, he seems to have taken a liking to it. He's got the whole of wizarding Britain believing he's a girl!"

"I noticed that. Short memories, eh?"

Millie nodded.

"And now he, she, oh whatever! Blaise is the spokesmodel for the Serpents!"

"Yeah, funny thing that."

"I've a bad feelin' about this." The big girl said.

"Yeah, me too."

"I wonder if this is how our parents felt when You-know-who was just getting started?"

ooo000ooo

Hermione was crying.

"You weren't supposed to find out, ever!"

"It's all right Hermione, you and Ron just started before the rest of us, that's all, that's okay."

"Oh Harry! You don't remember!"

"Remember what?"

"All those weeks we were together, in the tent?"

"I remember every day! You didn't even talk to me for the first two weeks, then. . . Then, um. . ."

"We were scared Harry, and we were sleeping together so that we could protect each other and well, one thing led to another and, and. . ."

She burst out in tears again as another contraction hit her.

"Less than five minutes that one Hermione," Ron said, "Ain't we there yet?"

"St. Mungo's!" the conductor, a young woman, cried out.

Harry and Ron lifted her from the seat and carefully carried her off the bus, then all but ran with her through the large double doors of the wizarding hospital.

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry!"

Harry and Ron carefully laid her on the waiting gurney, then both followed her into the labor room.

"I'm the sorry one, love, I got you into this state!"

"No Harry, it was both of us. You didn't do this, we did this. And you didn't remember because I didn't want you to."

"What are you saying, Hermione."

She took a deep breath and shouted, "I obliviated you!"

Then dissolved into tears again.


	17. Chapter 16: Interesting Times

Chapter 16 – Interesting Times

"Which of you two gentlemen is the father?" the mediwitch asked.

Harry and Ron shared an embarrassing silence then Harry stood up straight and said, "I am."

"You may attend," the healer said to Harry, then turned to Ron and said "there is a comfortable waiting room by the tea shop on this floor."

The redhead nodded and sulked away.

Someone gave the father-to-be a thin lime green robe and performed a cleansing and sterilizing charm on his hands and face just before the midwitch led him into the delivery room.

"What do I do?" he asked, in a bit of a panic.

"Talk to her, hold her hand. Let her know you're here for her."

"I hope she'll always know that."

The healer smiled, recognizing the father-to-be's look of utter and complete devotion.

"Aaaaaaargh!"

Harry was at Hermione's side in a trice.

"I'm here, Hermione." He said soothingly as he took her hand.

"Oh Harry, I'm so, so, sorrrrrragh!" she screamed while squeezing the bones in his hand together –- painfully.

He looked to his right at the healer and asked "How long?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh brilliant!"

ooo000ooo

Luna, Neville and Padma felt as though the heart had gone out of their evening and decided to call it a night. The owner of the restaurant stopped by and asked if everything was to their liking.

"It's all wonderful, Ian." Neville assured him – our mates just had to rush off. Could we get this to take away?"

"Of course." The old proprietor said, calling their server over. "Do come again!"

Luna smiled and assured him that they'd be back, and often. As the wizard and two witches left they noticed a large number of patrons qued up to get in.

"Popular place." Neville observed.

"Oh yes, and his other clientele enjoy his menu selections even more."

"Other clientele, Luna?" Padma asked.

"Oh yes, Ian runs the most successful sanguinaria in London."

"Sanquinaria?"

"For his vampire customers."

Neville and Padma shared a look that said, "She's our friend and we love her, but she still has these crazy ideas sometimes."

As they turned the corner they saw a group of well dressed wizards apparently attending to a tall dark beautiful woman who dressed immodestly in a split front robe that enhanced her impossibly large breasts.

"Eyes front, Neville!" Luna said, teasingly.

"Cor, how does she stand upright with baps like those?" that wasn't Neville speaking, but Padma.

Neville and Luna stared at her. She caught their unbelieving gaze and asked, "Well, how does she? Look at em!"

"She looks like she does all right to me." Neville said, glad for the chance to ogle again. "She looks familiar somehow."

"I think she's Blaise Zabini." Luna offered, "But I'm sure she was a boy when we were at the Slug Club Yule party in my fifth year."

Neville and Padma shared another look that suggested they needed to get Luna home ere long.

ooo000ooo

Blaise positioned the troops to the front, back and sides of the restaurant, then set two to orbiting the skies above the roof. S/he pulled a small glass jar from within the walking cloak. The container seemed to radiate malice. The jar held a spark of Fiendfyre, the same daemon flame that took Crabbe the summer before. The Sons had deployed powerful runes designed to contain the fire daemons within.

"Soon, my pretty, very soon!" Blaise cooed to the ember within the enchanted jar.

ooo000ooo

"You bastard!" she screamed, "If you'd just kept your todger in your trousers I wouldn't be here!"

"I know Hermione, I should have been more careful."

"I'm never letting another man touch me as long as I live I swear to God and the Goddess!"

"Whatever you say baby."

"What the bloody hell is this baby waiting for; and engraved invitation?"

"Soon, Hermione, soon."

"Oh Harry I'm so sorry, so, so sorry. . ."

"I know my Mione, I'm sorry too."

"Shut the fuck up, Potter, I'm more sorry than you'll ever be! I took your memories, I raped your mind! Why don't you hate me? Why, oh why, why don't you?"

"I could never hate you, Hermione. I love you too much."

"Aaaaaargh!"

By now Harry was becoming accustomed to the verbal abuse, and used to having his hand healed, again, after Hermione re-dislocated the bones in it. He didn't have to be told by the understanding midwife witch and healers that mothers giving birth had abused the fathers much worse than this little mum; but had to qualify that it wasn't by much. . .

ooo000ooo

"Ron?"

Ronald Weasley looked up and was shocked to see Luna and Neville standing in the archway between the tea shop and the maternity waiting room.

"Did she tell you then?" Ron asked.

"No," Luna replied dreamily, "Hermione forgot that I can see through glamours. Or maybe not. Perhaps it made her feel better to know that there was at least one girl who knew she was pregnant."

Neville was confused, "Why are you out here; shouldn't you be in there with her?"

Ron lowered his head, "Only the father can be in the delivery room."

Neville's "oh" spoke volumes. He thought to guide Luna out and gently took her elbow.

"No." Ron said heavily, "Stay."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

They all sat around the little table and Ron got a faraway look.

"I left them, y'know?"

Luna prompted him to go on.

"I got sick and tired and, and jealous and I stormed off in a green-eyed rage. I left them. Alone in a tent in the woods, for weeks! What d'you expect? Of course they done it – they were scared and all they had to depend on was each other and they nearly got it from that great dirty snake in Godrick's Hollow.

"When we got back together Harry was great. He convinced me that he and Hermione were just friends. That's all, just friends. And Hermione tried, she really did.

"She went as far as obliviating him – made him forget what they'd been to each other in that tent in the woods. It must have been eating her up from the inside to do it, but she did."

Tears were streaming down both his cheeks now. "D'you know what finally did it?"

"The baby?" Neville asked.

"Nah, I would have married her even carrying Harry's baby and all."

He paused, took a deep breath and said, "It was when she told me she loved me just as I was – but she loved me too much to leave me that way."

Luna pulled him into a gentle embrace, "That's when you knew it couldn't be you." It wasn't a question.

Ron nodded miserably.

"I love her so much it hurts, but I love her too much to put her through hell."

ooo000ooo

Blaise rolled the charmed jar to the low window just under the kitchen, sent a mild reducto and then snapped the keystone rune into place.

The ember of fiendfyre could only move within the confines of the rune stones so it melted through the glass and began to feed on the fuel it found within the wards.

Unfortunately for those inside the building: Ian, his chef, cooks and wait-staff, and all his patrons human, wizard and vampire – all were fuel for the cursed fire. The screams from within the building would become the nightmares of the embattled firefighters for as long as they lived. The smell of burning flesh permeated the whole block.

The fiendfyre burned until all the fuel was gone. No fireman's hose or wizard's aguamenti spell could quench it. The only living thing to escape the flames was a large pale bat, badly scorched, that erupted from the collapsing roof tiles and flew off into the night.

Blaise sighed mightily. "I'm going to miss that place," s/he said sadly, "it had wonderful curry."

ooo000ooo

Hermione was resting quietly after her labors. Her thick hair was matted with sweat and she smelled of perspiration and lactation. Harry thought she and his baby were the most beautiful things on the planet. Four hours of intense labor had mangled Harry's hands but the end result was a healthy baby boy, with blue eyes and an amazingly full head of very dark hair.

"I thought he'd have brown eyes, like you."

"Don't you know? All babies are born with blue eyes; his actual color will show in a few weeks. I'm hoping for green, myself."

She pulled the shoulder strap of her gown down just enough to let the baby feed. She squeaked as the healthy baby boy clamped down on her sensitive nipple, then settled back into the pillows with a beatific expression. Harry was bursting with love for them both.

"And that hair, it's all dark and curly." He said when he could finally find his voice. "He'll have a beautiful head of dark, curly hair. Like his mother."

She shrugged.

There was an awkward silence.

"What's his name?" Harry asked.

"Well, I was thinking about calling him Daniel, after my father, but then I remembered your father's name was James. How about James Daniel?"

"How about James Daniel Potter?"

Hermione was suddenly overcome by fatigue, "let's sleep on it, shall we?"

As she slept little James yawned mightily and snuggled against her breast.

"Lucky little sprog." Harry mused. He smiled at the sleeping child and said softly, "Hello James, I'm your father.

"You know what? I'm going to be here for you, while there's breath in this body I'm going to be here for you. This I vow."


	18. Chapter 17: Getting On With It

Chapter 17 – Getting On With It

Chas, the owner and proprietor of Hogsmeade Dry Goods Emporium pushed non-existent dust bunnies around his spotless wooden floor. For some reason his business had dried up this week. He had a friendly rivalry going with Burke's General Store but since Burke had started flying that green banner over his store sign everyone seemed inclined to shop there. The night before, as they threw back a pint in the Hog's Head Burke had explained.

"Since Miss Zabini's made us one of the clients of the Benevolent Sons I seem to be getting all the traffic – say what you will about it, that little green flag keeps the bad un's away." The old man leaned forward conspiratorially, "An the not-so-little girl ain't so hard on the eyes either, is she?"

"I wouldn't know," Chas had to admit, "She hasn't paid me a visit yet. Zabini you say?"

"Yeah, Blaise Zabini, you know her?"

"I know a bloke by that name, dark skin, looks like one of them boy band singers."

"Well I don't know any bloke by that name, but our Blaise is dark, dark skin and hair and as female as they come, y'know whot I mean?"

"You ain't!"

"Naaahhh, o' course not. I'm too old f' the likes of her, but she ain't shy about showin' off her, um, assets, y'know?"

"Big busted, you mean?"

"Oh that don't do em' justice, mate."

"Well, if you get too many customers tomorrow send some of em' my way, all right, Burke?"

"Right you are, Chas!"

ooo000ooo

Blaise was going slow in Hogsmeade, which was, in effect, a very small town where everyone knew everyone else. If one person felt threatened or pressured in any way the whole village would band together to fight. They'd proven that in the final battle against the Dark Lord.

So it was soft sell and keep the bumpkins happy. Undo another button and they'd slobber all over themselves. S/he hadn't thought of a suitable revenge on Parkinson or Chas yet, but whatever it was couldn't point back to the Sons of the Serpent. Any mistakes here and Hogsmeade would be lost.

ooo000ooo

Hermione woke to the gentle sound of Harry snoring. He was half seated in the chair by her bed with his head and arm resting next to her pillow. The dark stubble around his chin reminded her that they weren't children anymore. Of course, the baby at her breast was reminder enough of that. She shifted little James to her other breast and turned slightly to one side to stare at the dark haired young man beside her pillow. He'd let the hair grow to the perfect length, long enough to behave but not too long. His glasses were askew so she gently removed them with her free hand and, using James's blue blanket, dabbed the corner of his mouth were a thin line of drool was forming.

"Like baby like daddy." She smiled.

He murmured "Ginny?" in his sleep and Hermione felt as though an icicle had pierced her heart. She held her baby, her baby – no one else's to her breast, turned away from the baby's father and sobbed softly.

ooo000ooo

Harry was walking along a narrow road that ran beside a hill. As the road curved to follow the landscape he saw a small stone bridge. On the bridge were three people: a thin young man with dark hair, a petite ginger haired girl and a slightly taller girl with brilliant pink hair.

He only had eyes for the redhead.

"Ginny?"

Ginevra Molly Weasley ran to meet him and flew into his welcoming arms. They kissed, tenderly at first, then with increasing intensity until the two people left on the bridge coughed theatrically.

"Normally I'd say something suitably crass like, "Oi! Get a room!" but I'm too much a romantic to do that to you two kids.

"Sirius?"

Harry didn't let go of Ginny, he just opened up the embrace to enfold his godfather as well.

Harry felt his heart was so full it would burst. He had them back, most important he had her back and he wasn't ever going to let her go, not ever.

"You have no idea how much I love you!" she said, snuggling under his arm. The other arm he held tight around Sirius's shoulder. He nuzzled the top of her ginger hair.

"Wotcher Harry, godfather of my one and only son!"

"Tonks! It's good to see you well and up and about after, after. . ."

Harry held Ginny tighter than ever then asked, "Am I dead?"

"No, my love, you're just visiting us for a bit, after that you have to go back. You have a responsibility to the next generation. James, your son, and Teddy, your godson - they're both going to need you.

Harry fell to his knees in front of Ginevra. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive, really. We weren't together and there was a better than even chance we wouldn't be. You do love Hermione and that's okay – if you need me to say it, I will. It's okay to love Harry; it's better than okay, its necessary – it's like oxygen!"

"Love Hermione, love your beautiful son. Be there for Teddy when the other children are cruel and ask him about his mummy and daddy remind him that he has a mother and a father; a mother and father-in-love."

"Oh, and Harry," Tonks interrupted, "If you see a tall thin Druid who goes by the name o' David? Tell him I said it's okay to live; it's okay to love again. Oh yeah, and most important, make sure he spends as much time with Teddy as he wants, Okay? Okay!"

"Ginny, Sirius, Tonks; is this happening or am I just dreaming it all up?"

"Of course you are dreaming, Harry, but as I said before, what makes you think its any less real?"

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"In the flesh, so to speak."

"What must I do?"

"It's more proper to tell you what you mustn't do, Harry. You mustn't be the one who defeats the emerging dark lady – if you deign to call this creature a lady."

"Dark Lady?"

"Oh yes, Harry, when one dark lord or lady is defeated it leaves an inevitable vacuum which the forces of darkness labor to fill."

"Who is this Dark Lady?"

"You will know her if you see her, but still, I think it would be better if you did not."

"Why not?"

"Because our world will become complacent if you come charging to the rescue every time evil rears it's ugly head – fight if you must, defend your home and your family, but do not seek out this new evil. It is not for you this time."

"But I can help."

"In the short term, yes. In the long term you would be setting our world up for failure. You've run your race, pass the baton to another."

"Listen, my love, this is important. When you come back this way I'll be right here. . ."

"We'll be right here!" Sirius and Tonks said simultaneously.

". . . We'll be right here waiting, and then we can all travel on together, you, me, Hermione, Ron, everyone you ever loved or who has ever or will ever love you will be here and then we can begin the next great adventure!"

"I don't want to go!"

"You have to, love, you're not really here after all."

"Remember to live, remember to love!"

"Teach my grand-godson about his heritage, tell him and James about the Maurauders!"

"Remember the Druid!"

"I love you!"

ooo000ooo

"Ginny?" Harry mumbled, half awake.

"Hermione?"

The chestnut haired girl turned to see tears in his eyes; he saw that her face mirrored his own.

"I've just had a dream, a waking dream. I saw Sirius and Tonks and, and. . ."

"And Ginny?"

"How did you know?"

"You said her name in your sleep, oh Harry, how can I compete with a _dead_ girl? Will you be calling out her name in your sleep forever? Will I ever mean that much to you?"

Harry sat up on her bedside, gently grasped her shoulders and looked into her soul with those deep emerald eyes.

"I will always love Ginny. . ."

Hermione started to turn away.

". . . but know this: I've always loved you more, and I always will."

She looked back incredulously.

"But you always were the one for Ginny, and I was going to be the one for Ron. We were going to be one big happy Weasley family."

He shook his head.

"That would have been a disaster. I've never seen any two people less suited for each other than you and Ron."

"But."

"No buts, you two would have been a train wreck together. Anyone who thinks otherwise is deluding themselves."

"I can think of one or two people who are. . ."

"Delusional?"

"I guess so."

There was a pregnant pause that was only broken when Hermione asked, "what did you dream about?"

"I'm not sure it was a dream. For one thing I could see and hear and feel and smell, y'know? All my senses worked and that's not normal for a dream, is it?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Ginny told me that she knew I'd always loved you and that it was all right, necessary even, for me to love you. And Tonks told me that I needed to tell Brother David that it was okay for him to be in love too. Weird!"

"Truly."

"And Dumbledore was there."

"Dumbledore; what did he say?"

"He said there was a new dark lady rising and that I needed to keep out of this one, that it wasn't mine to do."

"Harry, I know you. If there's a dark lord or lady anywhere near you you're going to take them out."

"Apparently it's important for me to not be the one to do that, something about our world becoming too dependent on 'saviors'."

"What do you want to do, Harry?"

"Your folks are still in Perth, right?"

Hermione nodded, she still hadn't un-obliviated them.

"Andromeda has family there, and I think she'd like to move, y'know, get away from the place that took her husband and daughter.

"I don't know Harry, feels like running away."

"Not to me. To me it feels like running to something, call it home."

He gently lifted baby James and held him tenderly.

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course."

"Will you marry me?"

"Only until the end of my days, Mister Potter."

ooo000ooo

Mitsy Rolfe was in the tiny bathroom of the small flat she shared with her boyfriend Karl. Karl was a squib who found too many opportunities to bolster his self worth by abusing the witch he lived with, rent free. The witch in question was in the loo, cleaning up after the rough sex he'd provided.

"Couple a charms an' the bruises won't show, eh? Git y'self cleaned up and be quick about it – mebe we kin pick up a playmate at the Hag's Hump!"

As Mitsy applied the healing salve she looked at her reflection. She was fairly young, just in her thirties, meaning she could pass for a college age girl in the muggle world, she wasn't too hard on the eyes, she made a decent living working as a paralegal in the magical law office of Zubediah Vance. She could get a better flat if she had a flat-mate who actually contributed something other than sex and abuse. Tonight would be another bad one, she just knew it.

Karl fancied himself a ladies man, he loved to try to charm sweet young things into their already crowded bed – that is to say he'd slip them a lust potion and then make the appropriate suggestions. Usually the evening ended with the girl running out of the apartment because he couldn't perform very well with one girl, let alone two; and in his frustration he'd turn mean and start hitting.

Once the other girl was gone the only one left to beat on would be Mitsy.

She hated her life.

ooo000ooo

Blaise got well and truly tarted-up and headed for the Hag's Hump. It had been a while since s/he'd seen any action and was feeling randy. The indecently short red dress displayed two stocking-clad legs that seemed to go on forever and was cut low enough to enhance the magnificent baps barely contained within. All in all it was the stuff of an adolescent boy's wet dreams.

Add the matching red four-inch "fuck me" heels and Blaise was five-foot, eight inches of walking sin.

Karl saw a goddess walk through the door. He told Mitsy to go over and invite the black beauty to join them.

Blaise was delighted. Karl was charming, Mitsy was demure – they obviously wanted some extra spice in their relationship.

Zabini sniggered as s/he saw the man surreptitiously slip a powder into a drink and then hand it over.

A brief distraction and Blaise's drink was exchanged for Mitsy's.

Blaise self-administered a different potion, a simple sildenafil citrate, powder. Since the quasi-sex change, more and more of the bitter powder was needed in order for Blaise to "rise" to the occasion. Tonight's dose was twice that of the previous week.

The bitter concoction made Zabini wince and Karl smugly assumed he'd successfully administered the lust potion.

After a few minutes he said, "So, Blaise, fancy coming up to our flat for a bit o' fun?"

"I thought you'd never ask, luv!"

ooo000ooo

Allison was walking around just inside the perimeter of protective spells between the forbidden forest and the chicken coops of Parkinson House. At her side was an enormous brown dog, was that a husky? Surely it couldn't be a wolf – as there are no wolves in the U.K., right?

The adult wolves were off in the forest doing grownup things; Allison had walked unexpectedly upon the two grown wolves coupling and had retreated, red faced. Later, when the Druid, David, and Bellanca had asked her to keep Odin company she knew why, and readily agreed. She didn't want the pup to get an eyeful as well. She couldn't have known that young wolf cubs see their elders mating whenever the bitches go into heat and think nothing of it.

ooo000ooo

Remus and Bella morphed into their human shapes and dressed in silence. Finally the vampiress said, "Tomorrow is Imbolic, I'll be putting my vestments away for good and all."

Remus nodded, "I'll be presiding over the Sabbat."

He looked at her and was startled by her skin, seeming even paler in the light of the waning moon and was moved to ask, "Do you need to feed?"

"I wouldn't say no to a little nip?" she answered with a smirk.

Remus removed his robe and placed it on the ground before lying on it, his legs parted to give the vampiress full acess to his femoral artery.

Bella smiled and then jumped back, startled, as a white winged furry ball of scorched fluff landed with a thud between Remus's legs. She sensed the identity of the large bat from their shared blood.

"Eliza?"

The bat rolled onto its back and Bella gasped at the half burned face.

"Can you transform?"

The bat looked at her, then at Remus, and then back to her.

"Remus, this is my ancestress, Eliza Shakespeare. She's been hurt and needs to feed. Can you spare two or three pints?"

He nodded and lay back as the ancient vampiress crawled to his thigh to begin feeding.

ooo000ooo

Blaise kissed Mitsy deeply as Karl worked the fasteners on the little red dress. One breast, then the other popped out, nipples hard enough to cut glass.

"Oh baby," Zabini purred, "you wanna play?"

The man moaned "Oh yes!"

"Get naked; lie on the bed."

He quickly complied.

Blaise stifled a snicker and shared a sideways glance with Mitsy, whispering, "Kind of _underwhelming_, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, what he lacks in size and stamina he more than makes up for in speed!"

Karl, who couldn't hear what the bitches were saying began to get impatient.

"Oi, I'm right here, y'know?"

Blaise, topless and breathing hard vamped over to the head of the bed and said, "Don't worry, luv, you'll get fucked tonight – well and truly done to!"

The man smirked and reached for Zabini's tits.

"Ah, ah, ah! Turn over first."

He looked incredulous, but complied.

Blaise conjured ropes which snaked around Karl's wrists and ankles, binding him to the iron bed frame, before incanting "_Silencio!_"

The quasi-transsexual shimmied the rest of the way out of the dress and Mitsy was shocked at the size of the semi-flaccid member. Her first thought was to cut and run, but then she remembered multiple bruises, humiliations, broken bones and teeth and she crossed over to Blaise.

The lust potion that had been meant for Blaise course through her veins, she hesitated for only a moment before kneeling to take charge of the growing todger in front of her. She used her lips and tongue to bring the tranny fully erect.

When Blaise was rock hard Mitsy scowled in the direction of the bed where Karl was watching in horrified silence.

"Fuck me, baby, make me scream before you pound him into the mattress!"

ooo000ooo

An unfortunate side-effect of sildenafil citrate, A.K.A. Viagra, is that the longer you use it, the more you need to use.

At least that's what I've heard, yeah, that's it. . .


	19. Chapter 18: Imbolg

Chapter 18 – Imbolg

Eliza Shakespeare fed until she felt strong enough to morph back into her human form. She wasn't completely healed, that would take more blood than Remus had to give and she feared and respected her descendant too much to do that.

So it was a painfully scarred vampiress who stood, naked, before the couple.

Remus winced at the sight of her half scorched face and said "Please, I can spare more; and you need it."

Eliza managed a smile and thanked the werewolf, then politely refused.

"Just let me find the bastards who burned out Ian's and I'll drain them dry!"

"Is Ian?" Bellatrix began to ask, but stopped when she saw the look of utter desolation in the eyes of her ancestress.

The younger vampire enfolded her elder in a gentle embrace as both let the bloody tears course in red rivulets over their cheeks.

"I knew he'd be gone too soon, but it still hurts. More than I can bear sometimes."

Remus tried to give both vampiresses a little more of his life's blood, but staggered from the effects of his earlier contribution as he stood to make the offer.

Eliza smiled through her tears and said, "You'd better keep this one, he's generous to a fault."

"I hope to, Ancestress. He is a rare one."

"I'm going to sleep now, if you have any information on the one who orchestrated the attack, please wake me, no matter what time, day or night!"

Just before morphing back into her bat form she caught Remus's eye and said, "Take care of her, Lord Were, she's precious to me."

"And to me as well, My Lady Vampiress."

Then he turned to Bella and said, "Will you help me prepare for the Sabbat?"

"Of course."

ooo000ooo

Three dozen children sat, cross-legged, in a circle. In the center of the circle seven adults joined hands, surrounding a table on which stood a small pewter cauldron. One man in plain black robes released the hands on either side and stepped up to the cauldron. The hands he released found each other and a slightly smaller circle re-formed. The ritual began as the bearded, bespectacled Remus, in his Brother David persona, placed the besom, the ritual broom, on the altar before the cauldron.

"Imbolg," he said, "is a time of cleansing and purification."

The Druid lit a white candle, dropped four drops of hot wax into the cauldron bottom and affixed the burning candle.

"With my besom in my hand I will sweep out that which is no longer needed so as to purify my surroundings and prepare for new growth."

He picked up the besom.

"Clear out the old and let the new enter. Life starts anew at this time of cleansing."

"Brother David" started at the north and swept with outward motions deosil (clockwise) around the circle.

When he had swept full circle he sprinkled rosemary and bay into the candle flame and said, "I call upon the power of these herbs so that their scent released in this cauldron's fire may purify us, our surroundings, and the tools of our Craft. With this rite, I am reaffirmed in my Craft and made ready for the renewal of life in the coming Spring."

He passed the broom through the smoke from the burning herbs, waved the end over the cauldron and said, "May this besom be cleansed so that nothing cast out of the circle can return and cling to it. So mote it be!"

All in attendance murmured "So mote it be!"

Pansy, mistress of Parkinson House, stepped out of the inner circle to walk slowly around the circle; each small face eagerly hung on her every word.

"Picture yourself a farmer in northern Europe hundreds of years ago. In the depth of winter, the fields are frozen and your food stores are running frighteningly low. Firewood stocks are quickly depleting. You watch helplessly as your children pale from lack of sunlight and grow thinner by the week. They wake up each morning crying from limbs numbed by the chill, and go to bed at night complaining of rumbling stomachs. Each day is a struggle for your family's survival against hunger and cold.

"Then something begins to change. Slowly, the days grow noticeably longer. The Sun, like an old friend, comes back to melt the frost that envelopes the land. The season of lambing comes abruptly, bringing a new, much needed food source: milk. Suddenly you know that your family will make it through the winter, you begin preparations for the new growing season."

Hermione Granger held a cup of milk reverently in both hands, raised it above her head and intoned:

"_We celebrate Imbolg tonight,_

_And welcome the feast of waxing light!_

_In the shortest days and darkest nights,_

_There always remains a spark of light._

_Father Sky and Mother Earth,_

_Provide for all with life's rebirth."_

She took a sip from the cup and then passed it to the others in the inner circle, who took a small sip. The children in the larger circle drank from their own cups.

Hermione continued:

"_Now the light is lengthening days,_

_Let us brighten our home, and set each lamp ablaze._

_To the dark and the winter we bid goodbye,_

_as the Sun comes back to brighten our lives!"_

Little Odin, dressed in his miniature version of the druid vestments excitedly asked, "Now?"

Remus smiled and nodded and pandemonium ensued as the sprogs ran to their rooms and the classrooms and the kitchen lighting every lamp in the manor until every room glowed with a soft, warm, flickering light.

They all reformed the large outer circle and cheered as only delighted children can.

Millicent held her wand aloft and shouted above the pandemonium:

"_Farewell to the winter! Farewell to the cold!_

_In with the new, out with the old!_

_Greetings to the light, bright and warm,_

_Goodbye to the dark! Negative energy be gone!_

_If hereabout any lingers or creeps,_

_It shall be banished as the besom doth sweep!"_

Each child took his or her own besom, passed it above the cauldron, then deployed into every room, every corner of the old mansion. Some had brooms with long handles allowing them to sweep the walls and ceilings. No surface area was ignored, not even the closets.

Never before had the old mansion been subjected to such a joyful scouring!

As one body the residents and guests of Parkinson house swept all the negative magical energy out the large double doors.

No one wanted to linger over-long in the cold February night and soon everyone was back inside.

When Pansy closed the doors everyone cheered their combined effort.

Harry uncovered two large canvases with magical paintings of lively Celtic musicians and singers and soon the circle was reformed, but this time it was a dancing circle.

Gregory Goyle sang "The Ould Woman of Wexford," his clear tenor voice echoing in the great room.

"_Ah, one day she went to a doctor  
Some medicine for to find.  
She said 'Will you give me something  
That'll make my old man blind?'_

_Says he, 'Give him eggs and marrow-bones  
And make him sup them all,  
And it won't be very long after  
That he won't see you at all.'_

_So she fed him eggs and marrow-bones  
And she made him sup them all,  
And it wasn't so very long after,  
That he couldn't see the wall._

_Says th'old man, 'I think I'll drown myself,  
But that might be a sin.'  
Says she, 'I'll come along with you  
And I'll help to shove you in.'_

_Well, the old woman she stood back a bit  
For to rush and push him in,  
But the old man gently stepped aside,  
And she went tumblin' in._

_Oh, how loudly did she yell  
And how loudly did she bawl  
'Arra, hold your whist, y'old woman,  
Sure I can't see you at all.'_

_Ah, sure eggs are eggs and marrow-bones  
Will make your old man blind,  
But if you want to drown him,  
You must creep up close behind!"_

The party would be remembered for years, and not just because of the festivities.

Harry crossed his arms, palms inward, touching his shoulders and inclined his head to the Druid.

"Brother David?" he asked.

"Yes Brother Harry?"

"I have a message for you."

"From whom?"

"Well, um, I don't know if you knew her, but Nymphadora Tonks Lupin."

The druid paled and sat heavily on a short bench used by the children at meal times.

Harry fretted that he'd upset the holy man.

"When did Dora speak to you, Harry?"

"It was in a dream, on the night my son was born. I was walking along a road that followed the contour of the joining of two hills."

"Were the hills grass covered?" a pleasant female voice asked.

Harry turned and saw Bellanca for the first time out of her Vestal vestments.

"Sister Bellanca?"

"Just Bellanca now, Harry. Was there a bridge, a stone bridge with a short wall?"

"Yes."

"You visited the Elysian Fields; someone who had passed on needed to talk to you."

Harry nodded, "A few people, actually."

The Druid looked at Harry and asked, "What did Dora say?"

"She said it's all right for you to love again, more than all right, necessary. Does that make sense to you, Brother?"

The tonsured man lowered his head and his shoulders shook. Harry felt uncomfortable seeing the older man apparently crying, but then heard not sobbing, but chuckling."

"Oh Dora, only you would go through such lengths to ensure my happiness."

He looked up, first at Harry, then at Bella then at nothing in particular as he said "Thank you Dora, I will always love you."

Bella covered his shoulders with her arm.

Harry had an epiphany that night, his mage's sight saw through the glamours and disguises and he saw the couple before him for who they really were. In a very few seconds he went through the entire gamut of emotions before a reassuring presence, perhaps Ginny, perhaps Sirius, calmed him.

A lot of people had died the night Tom Riddle fell.

Fred.

Nymphadora.

Remus.

And yes, even Bellatrix Lestrange

But death and life were not constants wherein magic was concerned.

Ginny was gone, but she remained, a bright spark, as long as he remembered her.

The people that had been Remus and Bellatrix were gone, and in there places were two gentle, loving, healing souls – or rather healing halves of a single soul.

He would be content to spend the next few years in Perth with his wife and son and godson.

He placed a hand on the old werewolf's shoulder and said "She also told me that you should spend as much time with Teddy as you can. He will be in Perth with Andromeda and Hermione and me for the next few years, but I can get an international portkey for you to visit as often as you like."

Remus smiled through his tears and thanked Harry from the bottom of his grateful heart.

"Hogwarts will be here when we return for James and Teddy's first year."

ooo000ooo

Blaise had had a full night. Karl lay bruised and bleeding on the small bed, Mitsi sat next to him and wondered what she'd ever seen in the abusive squib. She looked back at Blaise, beautiful, exotic and twisted as a pretzel.

"Take me with you."

"As my, what: legal secretary, Girl Friday, or whore in residence?"

"Any, all. I don't care – as long as I'm away from this, away from him."

"What are you willing to do for me?"

"Whatever you ask."

Blaise nodded to Karl.

Mitsy nodded. She stood, retrieved her wand and leaned over the man's bruised and bleeding face.

"It hurts, baby, don't it?"

Karl nodded and whimpered.

"Mitsy will make it better."

At that moment the man realized just how much he needed this witch, and he ached at the thought of his previous abuses.

"Ahm gonna be good to you, baby," he slurred through broken teeth, "from now on I'm gonna. . ."

He never got a chance to finish.

She grabbed a handful of hair, jerked his head back and sliced his throat and windpipe with a cutting spell.

Karl tried to plead for his life, but could only manage a sickening, sucking gurgle.

"May we go now my Dark Lady?"

Blaise smiled.

"Dark Lady."

S/He liked the sound of that.


	20. Chapter 19: Handfasting

Chapter 19 – Handfasting

Seven days past Imbolg Remus again stood in the center of a great circle.

This time all the congregants, children and adults, wore white mantles over their best robes. The girls and women had garlands of baby's breath in their hair, the boys and men wore wreaths of braided bay leaves. Everyone was freshly bathed and barefoot.

Remus spoke solemnly in his deeply enchanted voice. Formal as he was, infectious joy reverberated in his voice and shone through his animated delivery.

"At this time and in this place

We do call upon the Spirits of the Land

As well as the Mighty Ones of the Skies.

We call upon the Gods of our own distant past

From lands far away.

We call upon the Gods of our spiritual brethren who once called this place their own.

Witness and rejoice with us in this moment as love is affirmed."

Remus and Bella placed simple gold rings on the ends of their wands, then placed the wands, tip to tip, on the altar.

The Druid picked up his wand and held one end before him in his right hand, the former Daughter of Vesta likewise held hers in her left hand.

Each placed a hand over the other's wand near the tip where the rings encircled.

"Above us are the stars

Below are the stones

As time passes, remember...

Like a star shall our love burn brightly,

Like the earth shall our love be firm.

We shall be free in giving of affection and of warmth.

We shall have no fear,

and let not the ways or words

of the unenlightened give us unease.

For the Gods are with us,

Now and always!

"I, David of the Order of the Blessed Goddess and the Laughing God, and Bellanca, late of the Daughters of Vesta do stand before our Gods and these, our blessed friends and our family, who witness on Earth.

I, David, wish to become one with this woman.

I do here pledge my love through all that may come

for as long as love shall last."

Bella smiled through her white veil.

"I, Bellanca, wish to become one with this man.

Before these witnesses I do here pledge my love through all that may come.

For as long as love shall last."

"Does anyone here say nay?"

Love shone through their eyes as Remus and Bella exchanged rings.

"As the Gods and the Old Ones are witnesses

With those of us present now,

I now proclaim that we are man and wife!

"Thus are our hands fasted;

we two are now one.

This work is done

and joy is begun!"

Together they lifted the veil and kissed deeply, ignoring the shouts, whistles and cat-calls of the circle of loved ones.

The feast that followed would have put a strain on Parkinson House's budget if it weren't for the anonymous gifts of food, wine and clothing.

The girls were looking doe-eyed at some of the boys, who were fidgeting uncomfortably until the games began.

The only dark spot of the evening came when Harry, Hermione and Andromeda Tonks brought little Teddy Tonks to the Druid, who held the baby with natural paternal ease. The baby loved to play in the man's whiskers, which were soft to the touch and somehow familiar. Bella stood behind her new husband and looked at the tiny face that had echoes of his face and some of hers as well.

Nymphadora had been a cousin, after all.

"See, my love, therein lies your immortality." She whispered in his ear, causing her dark hair to cascade over his shoulders

The baby reached up to grab her soft hair, but recoiled when she touched his hand; her touch was cold as ice.

Bella hadn't fed recently enough to raise her cadaverous body temperature.

Bella wished more than anything at that moment that she could be fertile and warm and fully human again. She knew she could never give him a child.

Was she being selfish; preventing Remus from finding a living, warm mate?

The bride's heart, so full of joy just moments before, felt like it might break. A single blood-red tear coursed down her cheek. Remus surreptitiously dabbed the red streak away. He led her to a quiet corner and dropped a silencing rune at their feet, insuring their privacy.

"What is it, love?"

"Oh Remus, have I enthralled you? Am I being selfish? You deserve a warm, live woman, not some cold, dead thing."

"Haven't you heard?"

"What?"

"Cold hands, warm heart. . ."

"This heart does beat for you, love, but I'm still as cold as a reptile unless I feed."

"It's all right, Bellanca dear, I promise to warm you later."

She forced a cheerful reply, "I'll hold you to that, husband."

)O(

Michael and Deborah MacMillan had one son, Earnest, and one small daughter, Renee. Right now, thirty-seven year-old Deborah was bent over a large wine barrel struggling with the coarse ropes that held her in place.

Her family was forced to watch as she was violated repeatedly by a squad of dark-robed wizards. Deborah had been screaming, but was reduced after a while to piteous sobs as she endured the unendurable.

The Dark Lady stepped between the mother and a disappointed minion saying, "Enough!"

S/He turned a malevolent eye to the petrified family and spoke softly, dangerously.

"You will remember this night, but will not be able to tell anyone about it by the spoken or written word."

She lifted Michael's head and captured his tortured gaze with her dark, pitiless eyes.

"You will align your vote to mine in the Wizengamont, or the next one over the barrel will be your precious Rene."

Deborah MacMillan managed to choke out "No!"

Blaise smiled, "I see we have an understanding."

Michael MacMillan, nodded, his spirit broken.

"Good."

)O(

Theodore Nott the Third followed Blaise out of the warehouse onto the loading dock. The area smelled of fisheries and fuel oil. Once outside he muttered something under his breath.

"Spit it out Theo."

"Well, um, they are just a minor merchant family – the MacMillan vote doesn't carry much weight in the Wizengamont."

"He doesn't have to carry a lot of weight, he just needs to help me hamstring those outdated berks until I can get my own people in there."

"How's he gonna do that?"

"Simple, he'll be neutral on all things not related to my agenda, and will always cast the blocking vote when I tell him to."

"I still say he can't do that much." Theo said, sullenly.

Blaise held a small spool of thread in front of Nott's face.

"See this?"

"Yeah, I see it, it's fucking thread; so what?"

S/He pulled a small length of the thread from the spool.

"This is pure silk, don't underestimate its strength. Here, put your arms around this piling."

"Huh?"

"It's not a request, Theo, do it now!"

He complied.

"Now, cross one thumb over the other."

He did.

Blaise wound the silk thread around the second joint of Theo's thumbs just a few times, and then tied it off.

"All right, Theo, get loose."

Nott smirked and tried to snap the thread and found he couldn't.

"You've charmed the thread!"

"No, I haven't, it's just simple non-magical, muggle thread. Come on Nott, surely you can break a few strands of silk!"

He tried but found he couldn't

"Okay, I get it. Now let me loose."

"No."

"No?"

"Perhaps you'll actually think before questioning my judgment in the future. As it is, I think we'll just let you think about this for a few hours."

Having said that h/she poured salt in a circle around Nott, effectively forming an anti-apparition zone around the piling before disappearing with a loud "crack!"

"Zabini! Get me loose! Gods damn it, Zabini!"

)O(

Bella came to Remus for the first time in her human form. She refused to enthrall him except in the manner in which women have managed to do so for millennia.

"Remus, love, will you do something for me?"

"What is that?"

"Would you please shave? Fur is all well and good for our wolf forms but I'm terribly sensitive to whiskers when I'm like this."

He laughed. Then asked, "Do it for me?"

"You're going to let a vampire near your neck with a cutting spell? What if I slip?"

"Then I'll know you're hungry. Do you need to feed?"

"Perhaps, just a little?"

"Where would you like it from?"

"Where do you think."

He smirked; she always liked the femoral artery, close to his manhood, the source of his most potent need."

"Come along then my lady wife."

She smiled broadly, "At your service milord husband."

)O(

Millie and Greg had just put what they thought was the last of the excited sprogs to bed and were heading back to their own room when they were distracted by quiet sobbing. It sounded like someone had lost everyone who had ever been dear to them.

"Hullo?" Millie called out kindly.

The sobbing stopped. Somehow the silence wore worse than the piteous cries had.

"Let's have a bit o' light." Greg suggested. Millie nodded and together they drew their wands and said "Lumos!"

Greg caught a movement from beneath the staircase and stepped between the steps and his girl.

"Oi, it's all right, lil' one. It's just Uncle Greg and Mummy Millie."

"Go way!" a small girl's voice trembled from the shadows.

"Best let me handle this one Gregory."

"Okay, Millie, I'll be over there," he said, pointing to the long table along the wall.

The big girl pulled a rough wooden chair over to the staircase and sat down. She closed her eyes and began to rock back on the chair's hind legs, humming to herself.

After a few minutes the little girl asked, "what cha' doin'?"

Millie smiled and said, "Din't you know? This is my let it be place."

"Let it be?"

"Oh yeah, I got lots of let it be places. The space under the stair is one place cause I can see everything from there and no one can see me. That way I can see and everything just lets me be.

She leaned forward and asked, "You know that big willow in the back, near the forest?"

"Uh, huh."

"Well it's got two big roots that point off toward the road and sometimes I'll just sit there between the roots and watch the world go by, and it just let's me be."

"You're needin' some 'let me be' time, so I'm just gonna leave you alone. But I love you too much to leave you lonely."

The brown haired girl shot from under the stair and into Millicent's arms.

"Oh Mummy Millie, that's what I'm afraid of more'n anything!"

Millicent recognized little Allison now that she was out of the shadows.

The full-sized young woman held Allison tight, rubbing her back as she did so, "You ain't gonna be alone poppet, you got all your brothers and sisters and me and Mummy Pansy and Uncle Greg and we ain't goin' nowhere."

Allison sniffed, "Odin's leaving."

Neither girl noticed Greg leaving quietly.

"What makes you think Odin's leaving?"

"He's got his mum and da' and they're married and all and when they go he's goin' too."

Millie smiled reassuringly and said, "David and Bellanca might be gone a few days, but wild hippogryphs couldn't keep em' away from us. They're here to teach us and protect us and Odin will stay right here while they do.

"Ali?"

Allison spun in Millie's lap and saw little Odin, dressed in his night clothes, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Odie!"

The little girl practically tackled the suddenly wide-awake boy.

"I thought you'd left with your Mum and Da'."

She was still in her white robe, her baby's breath garland slightly askew. Odin felt so good in her arms, like he belonged there. Odin, for his part couldn't think for the life of him why she would think he'd ever leave her.

Odin hugged her back and said, "Listen Ali, we're mates you an' me. You know what I am and what that means."

She looked at him uncertain about his meaning.

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Wolves mate for life."

Odin took her by the hand and led her back to her room, not even looking to see what the grownups were doing.

"Awww," Greg whispered to Millie in a sotto voice, "they's so cute together, y'know?"

"Gregory Goyle," she said, her voice thick with emotion, "You are _so_ gonna' get lucky tonight!"

)O(

The recipe is coming together; there will be a mixing of Sons of the Serpent and our favorite Slytherin alums. Throw in a couple of vampires and a werewolf or two for spice, shake well.

Let me just take a moment to plug a story on this site in the Books section under "His Dark Materials." My good friend and sometimes beta-reader Guitar Gurl has written a hot little piece called "Forbidden Fruit." If you've read Phillip Pullman's "Golden Compass," "The Subtle Knife," and "The Amber Spyglass," you'll recognize the characters and, more importantly, the framework of GG's little one-shot tale.

Even if you haven't read the original book(s) Guitar Gurl's story is a diverting read.

N!


	21. Chapter 20: Recruiting

Chapter 20 – Recruiting

Theodore Nott the Third was many things. He was the Scion of the Noble House of Nott. Well, he would be if his house hadn't fallen into shambles, literally, figuratively and financially as a result of the last war.

He was a trusted lieutenant and advisor to the rising Dark Lady. Okay Blaise Zabini wasn't exactly a lady, but she, um, he, oh whatever, at least outwardly resembled a dark skinned, drop dead gorgeous fox right out of the music videos. S/he knew s/he was a prick tease, but Theo knew this particular he-she had block and tackle of his own. The thought made him shudder.

He was second in command to the rising political entity that was the Benevolent Sons of the Serpent; the public face was kind and charitable. Their real face was plain and simple racketeering, extortion, and terror. Blaise managed to coerce a minority of the Wizengamont's seats, leaving that august body ham-strung. Minister Shacklebolt's administration became mired in procedure.

Today Theo was tasked with adding Parkinson House to the ranks of the BSOS. It should be simple, extend "protection" to the orphanage and once established there, recruit as many of the pureblood children as possible.

Greg and Millie were at the Farmer's Market in Campelltown, buying a truckload of potatoes and fresh snap beans, so Pansy was the only one there when Theo came to the door.

"Just walk away, Nott."

"Now don't be that way Pansy, look, we got off on the wrong foot last time, _mea culpa_, y'know? Lem'me make it up to you, okay?"

The dark-haired girl crossed her arms but didn't say no.

"Can I come in?"

Pansy shrugged and stepped back from the open door.

"Wow," Theo said, looking around at the mansion turned home for the war orphans, "love what you've done with the place."

Pansy's expression didn't change; she looked at Nott implacably, waiting for him to say something.

"Look, I've got a really sweet deal going on now. You've heard of the Benevolent Sons?"

Pansy inclined her head.

"Well I'm one of the founders of the BSOS, and I don't know if you know it, but every business that flies our banner is under our protection. They haven't been robbed or vandalized or burned to the ground."

Pansy finally spoke, "Nott, this isn't a business, it's a home. We don't make a profit here; we break even on good months. Success here means no one goes to bed hungry."

"Yeah, but you see, you've got all these kids, they're like the next generation for magical Britain, right?"

Pansy shrugged. "The Prophet says we've got about ten percent of their generation."

"Yeah, but we've got the makin's of leaders here, just think, all under one roof. Train em' up right and they'll be runnin' the BSOS in a few years."

Theo smiled at his own self-aggrandizement, "see, we're not thinkin' about tomorrow, we're thinkin' about the day after that and the day after that!"

"And what will you be teaching them?"

"The same things our parents taught us, pureblood rule, might makes right, y'know."

Pansy nodded, "Let me think about it."

"Sure, sure, take your time." He extended his hand which she pointedly ignored. He drew his hand back and ran his splayed fingers through his hair. "I'll just see m'self out then."

The dark haired girl nodded.

)O(

Michael MacMillan returned home from a late session at his office to find his wife, Debbie, laid out on the living room rug, half a dozen potions' bottles around her. He wanted to scream, but what came out was a quietly desperate, "No!"

With strength born of desperation he picked up his wife, the center of his universe for twenty years, and apparated to the lobby of St. Mungo's. On his arrival he found his voice.

"Somebody help me here! Somebody! _Please!_"

Emergency mediwitches and healers swarmed husband and wife, checking her for vital signs, they found a weak pulse the healer in charge placed Debbie in stasis as her assistant started the interview with the husband.

As soon as the husband said the word "potion" the team set to removing and replacing all the blood in her body. If whatever she took hadn't been absorbed by too many vital parts she might pull through.

Less than an hour later she was purged of the combination sleeping draught and oleander brew she'd concocted for herself. Physically she was going to be fine, but she was still dying.

The healers were at a loss.

One young intern, Christianna Prince, left the treatment room and returned with Michael.

Healer Prince, not much more than a girl herself said, "Talk to her Michael, get her to respond."

Michael nodded, "Deb, sweetheart, it's Mike. We need you; me and Ernie, and Renee. If you go away who'll make sure Renee does her homework? Who'll be there to help Ernie get his Apparating license? You know I always leave something behind, have to count my protruding parts."

Debbie's eyelids fluttered open and she focused on her husband.

"Can't let it go, can't get it out of my mind, y'know."

Michael's shoulder racked with sobs, "I know, but it wasn't anything you did, you know that, don't you?"

She went on as if she didn't hear him, "I wash and I wash and I'll never be clean again. Just a dirty used thing. I see it in your eyes every time I look at you. I'm _dirty_."

How could she know that the pain in his eyes was from his own guilt and shame for not properly protecting her? How could he make her see?

She turned to Christina, "can you take it out of my mind? It's right on the surface, easy to get to."

The green robed intern nodded and placed the tip of her wand on Debbie's temple. The memory that came out was not shimmering silver, but dull, metallic grey, like shimmering coal smoke. Just looking at it made her feel uncomfortable. She placed the foul reminiscence in a small crystal bottle and stoppered it.

Debbie sighed, "That's better then."

And died.

)O(

"Mister and Missus David and Bellanca, um, darling?"

Remus raised his head and looked at his bride and smiled.

"Thewlis, my dear, you are now Mrs. Thewlis. You're married to me and it says right here on my birth record that I was born David Thewlis almost two-score years ago."

"So Remus Lupin is truly dead then?"

"I'm afraid he had to be, dear, but then again so is Bellatrix LeStrange."

Bella froze.

"How did you know; _when_ did you know?"

The werewolf smirked, "you have a distinctive aroma, and I was intoxicated by it when we were students at Hogwarts."

"So you've known all along?"

"I've known since you rescued me from the incinerator."

Remus took his bride's hands and kissed them both.

"Bellatrix LeStrange died in the last battle, as did Remus Lupin; you are Bellanca Thewlis, bound, betrothed and wed to the happiest Druid on the planet."

A single blood-red tear coursed down Bella's cheek.

"I wish to God and the Goddess that I'd paid more attention to you in school, who knows, I might have become Mrs. Remus Lupin."

"Well, my dear, for better or for worse, you've got me."

"Let's live, husband, let's live while we can, and squeeze the juice out of every day, _please!_"

The lycan rolled onto his back, pulling his vampire bride on top of him and said, "What a marvelous idea, my lady wife."

)O(

Christianna Prince emerged from the penseive and promptly threw up. The images she'd seen, the haunted memories of a good woman, wife and mother as she was repeatedly raped by half a dozen hooded men, orchestrated by a veiled woman.

How could one woman do this to another?

Christianna had seen death and suffering, but until the moment she looked at the tortured memories of Debbie MacMillan she'd never truly seen evil.

She recognized the spell that the Dark Lady had cast, preventing the MacMillans from communicating by the written or spoken word the horrors that had been visited upon them. The memories, however, would be there as long as they lived.

Fear and fury galvanized into a desire to see justice done – only then could the real healing begin. Christianna had no delusions; she knew that, having seen the memories, she would likely be marked for death, or worse.

Debbie had preferred death to living with those memories.

The young healer removed her own recent memories of the events and placed them in the penseive before siphoning them all off into the crystal bottle. She labeled the bottle carefully, and then made four copies.

One for the DMLE, one for the Daily Prophet, one for the St. Mungo's archives and one for her own records.

)O(

Brian Wright, the senior duty auror slid a chipped coffee mug to his visitor, a well dressed young man – Brian particularly appreciated his visitor's taste and style. The man sported a dragon's head ring on his right hand and wore deep green, square-toed dragon hide shoes. He was personable and easy to talk to. He was refreshingly up–front about his visit, explaining that he was recruiting for the Benevolent Sons of the Serpent.

"I've seen the BSOS written up in the Daily Prophet, sounds like you do a lot of good."

"And we're always looking for a few good wizards and witches, Senior Auror Wright."

"I'm at tea, it's just Brian."

The BSOS man smiled, "Brian it is."

A large screech owl landed on the priority perch and lived up to its name.

"Bloody hell, I wish they'd use barn owls for priority messages. 'Scuse me, mate, duty calls."

"I'll leave you to it, Brian. I have to be off meself."

Senior Auror Wright took the package from the owl, which looked balefully at the DMLE man.

"Here you go," Wright said, handing the owl a receipt and a puppy biscuit – the auror might grouse about the old bird but he had a soft spot for him none the less. The feeling was mutual and the screech owl butted Brian's hand before flying off with his receipt.

"I suppose I'd best review the memories before I send em' up."

He unstoppered the bottle and poured the memories into the departmental penseive.

Fifteen minutes later, ashen faced he sat hard on the old wooden chair at his desk. He reached into the bottom drawer and removed an odd, oblate glass bottle that looked like it had been pinched from three sides and took a long pull, and then another, before replacing the bottle.

It was definitely time to retire. He'd seen too much. He saw that poor woman repeatedly raped in front of her family, felt her terror as her child was threatened with the same fate, felt the despair that made her take her own life.

He also saw something from which, perhaps, only he could draw any kind of conclusion.

One of the rapists wore a distinctive ring.

A dragon's head.

On the one hand he felt like Fate's bitch, on the other he knew he held the key to breaking this case and exposing the "_Benevolent_" sons of bitches for what they really were.

)O(

A/N: So the careful façade put into place by the BSOS begins to unravel. When the feces hits the rotary oscillating cooling device expect vampires and wolves in rare form. Don't wear white.


	22. Chapter 21: Appetites

Chapter 21 – Appetites

Senior Auror Brian Wright looked in on his watch commander, Randal Pierce.

He knew Pierce to be a conscientious man, tenacious as a bulldog when it came to prosecuting the low lifes of the wizarding world.

"Brian, I thought you would be home by now, have a cup of coffee!"

"Thanks Commander, don't mind if I do. Wouldn't mind a bit of the Irish in it."

Commander Pierce's eyebrows went up at that. He called for his secretary, a new recruit fresh out of training, and told him that he and the Senior Auror were investigating a new case and needed at least one unbroken hour.

The erk saluted smartly and set about his gatekeeper duties. Neither the Commander nor the Senior Auror would be disturbed.

Pierce poured two cups of DMLE mud and flavored both with the contents of his hip flask.

"This must be important."

"How'd you suss that?"

"You've stayed well beyond your watch, you came to me personally, and you need a drink, badly." The older man shrugged, "pretty simple really."

Wright produced a copy of the memory and asked, "Got your penseive handy?"

The Commander nodded and stood to retrieve the small stone basin from his filing cabinet.

"Do we need the departmental penseive?"

"No, sir, I'd rather not revisit that reminiscence."

The senior auror waited patiently as his commanding officer viewed the memory. When the ashen faced officer lifted his head from the basin he fixed his old friend with a dispassionate stare. He wasn't fooling anyone; he was just as affected by the vision as Wright had been.

"All right Brian, tell us what you've got."

"I'm ninety-nine percent certain I know the identity of one of the attackers."

The commander's eyes went wide. "Admissible in court?"

"Not yet, sir, but if we do this right we'll bag the whole lot."

"Show me what you've got."

)o(

The inner circle of the Benevolent Sons of the Serpent met at Nott's London flat. The recruiting drive was going well. Blaise noted, with satisfaction, that a large number of the new people would be earning promotions to the second tier, the enforcers, those who made sure "dues" were paid in a cheerful and timely manner. Enforces didn't pay dues, they collected them.

The first tier, the inner circle, consisted of Blaise, Theo, Mitsy, and nine hangers-on from their school days. This evening the Dark Lady was holding court, Mitsy knelt beside her lover prepared to do anything for her Dark Lady out of love born of gratitude.

Blaise, the man, tried his best to please her. The fact that he didn't often succeed hardly mattered, she loved him for his valiant efforts - so what if his todger wasn't often up to the task, there were fingers and tongues and all manner of wonderful toys. . .

Blaise, the woman, valued her advice and opinions. Indeed she didn't consider any course of action without first co-opting Mitsy's judgment. So this twisted transsexual had become her friend, her lover and her savior.

Tonight Blaise was clutching her book, "Soul Majiks Most Darke," and smiling at the members of the inner circle.

"None of us took the Mark when the Dark Lord reigned." The Dark Lady said. "And that is fortunate, because if we had, we'd be in Azkaban now or under a lifetime of probation and scrutiny like our old friends the Malfoys."

"So that's why we haven't recruited Draco," Nott mused aloud.

"Precisely," Blaise said while handing Mitsy a polished wooden box. Mitsy opened the lid and displayed the contents, several thin gold chains. The Dark Lady's lieutenant removed one of the chains and placed it around her neck. A small gold serpent, coiled as if ready to strike, rested between her breasts. All of the men present noted the coiled snake tattoo on Mitsy's left breast.

"These little trinkets will allow me to summon you at any time. The charm is a portkey, once it begins to vibrate, just touch it and say my name and you will port to where ever I happen to be. Be sure to have your wands at the ready when that happens."

Mitsy walked around the circle handing out the charmed chains. Once all the chains were in place Blaise strutted in his full Dark Lady persona, stalking the circle.

"Sons of the Serpent, what is our destiny?"

"Pure blood rule!"

"Are we of one mind?"

"We are of one mind!"

"There are those who will oppose us, what for them?"

"Pain and death!"

"Are we of one mind?"

"We are of one mind!"

"Who is the head of the Serpent?"

"The Dark Lady!"

"Who here will pledge their lives, their fortunes their families and their future to the Sons of the Serpent?"

"I will, I will serve the Sons of the Serpent!"

"Who will bind their will to mine?"

"I will, I will bind my will to yours Dark Lady!"

"_Redimio vestri mos volo, redimio vestri mos volo, redimio vestri mos volo!_"

There was a sizzling sound, like bacon in a skillet, along with the acrid smell of burnt flesh and hair as each gold chain burned into the skin of its wearer.

Pain and enchantment combined to bring all those of the inner circle to their knees, save for Mitsy, who had already pledged her will and her life to her Dark Lady.

When the charms cooled each man there had an identical coiled snake tattoo on the skin above his heart.

Blaise kissed Mitsy, now ranked first amongst the disciples, then knelt before each newly marked liegeman, kissing each one, further bending each man's will to that of the Dark Lady.

"Now you are all truly mine, _iam vos es mei._"

The exotic transsexual chose one young follower, a gorgeous, well muscled young man and pulled him to his feet. Blaise caught Mitsy's eye and nodded in the direction of their chambers, she smiled; this would be one of the nights they both got fucked to exhaustion. Proving again that power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

)O(

Remus drew Bella into a tight embrace, giving her as much warmth as he could from skin to skin contact.

"Bella, dear?"

"I'm awake."

"I heard about the new Sanguinaria that's opened in Chelsea."

"Eliza has a big mouth."

"I've already made reservations for you, happy birthday."

Bella sat up in the bed.

"Are you so eager to be rid of me?"

"Not at all, but you need a little variety in your diet and, well, frankly. . ."

He looked a little embarrassed.

". . . I'm a little, um, spent."

"You know that if I don't kill my 'donor' my nature will take over?"

"Even so, you need this."

"Doesn't it bother you that vampires more often than not become intimate with their entrées?"

"Bella, when I pledged myself to you in marriage it was with both eyes open. I know your nature, and I accept it. I just have one request."

"And that is?"

"Bring your warm body home to me when you've fed, and let me satisfy your other appetites."

"Have I told you, husband, that I love you?"

"Yes, everyday, but I love to hear it."

"I love you."

"I love you more."

Eliza snorted. "Quick, someone give me an insulin shot!"

The elder vampiress was looking better, but still bore the burn scars from the attack on Ian's place. She let her ebony tresses veil the worst of her disfigurement.

"Please forgive my ancestress; she woke up on the wrong side of the coffin this evening."

"Ah, young love. It's so . . . hormonal!"

"Hey, we're not that young!" Remus objected.

"P'sha, when you've crossed the five-hundred year mark then you can say you're not that young."

Remus handed Bella a small box.

"Happy birthday, darling."

Inside were two bangle style bracelets, one with fire opals surrounding a deep blue multifaceted tanzanite stone, the other a simple beveled circlet.

"Oh Remus, they're beautiful."

"They're reusable portkeys as well. The tanzanite stone will always bring you home to me, wherever I may be."

"Oh darling, that's so poetic."

"I have my moments." He smirked, "the other has been set for Chelsea. I know you can apparate, but this way you can take my ancestress in law."

Eliza kissed the werewolf's cheek. "Thank you descendent in law, welcome to the family." Then added, "Well, get dressed niece, I'm hungry and your husband is "spent," or so I hear."

"Eavesdropper."

Eliza shrugged.

Bella put on her normal evening wear, tea-length deep purple gown with the lace bodice under a dress evening cloak. Tonight she wore gleaming black cuffed boots.

"How do I look?"

"Delicious, now go get some food before I ravage you right here."

Bella hesitated, "I'll stay if you'd rather. . ."

Eliza intervened. "Here," she said, handing him a bottle of blood replenishing potion. "Drink this, get some rest, you'll need your strength later."

"That's a promise." Bella added in a low sexy growl.

She held the bracelet out so that Eliza could grasp it and said "Chelsea."

They disappeared in a rush of wind and a swirl of colors.

)o(

Bella and Eliza stepped out of the alcove that served as the Chelsea portkey terminal.

"Here we are, Draycott Avenue, we need One Hundred Twelve, just up this way then."

The ladies saw a que had formed at the newly refurbished One-twelve.

"I don't sense any others of our kind here." Eliza said. She released a powerful burst of pheromones that made it perfectly all right for the two newcomers to go to the front of the line.

"Handy talent, that."

"Quite."

The receptionist recognized the nature of her customers immediately.

"Armand!"

"Si, Senora?"

"Private sitting for two."

"Si, Senora, if the senora and senorita will follow me por favor?"

They followed Armand into a familiar looking sitting room. Eliza sat in a comfortable wingback, Bella followed the example.

"This looks just like. . ."

"Like Senior Ian's, yes, it was modeled after his establishment, such a shame."

"Indeed, did you work for Ian?"

"Only briefly, Senorita, would you like to see the entrees?"

Eliza seemed a bit taken aback by the question, having become to the level of service at Ian's. She quickly recovered.

"Of course."

Two young men and three young women stepped into the sitting room. They were attractive enough, but their eyes had a dreamy, unfocused look. They were being herded by an imposing looking man, a lycan from the scent of him, almost as though they were being compelled.

"Anything to your liking, senora, senorita?"

"Yes," Eliza said, "We'll take the lot."

"Of course, senorita." To the lycan he said, "Gustavo, suite three por favor."

Eliza motioned to Armand, "Tell me, senior, who owns this establishment?"

"I am not at liberty to say, senorita, but it is an old and respected family, I assure you."

Eliza released a powerful burst of pheromones and asked again.

"A corporation bought this establishment earlier this year."

"And the name of the corporation?"

"It simply goes by the initials BSOS Inc., senorita."

"Gracias, senor."

"De nada, senorita."

The lycan was, of course immediately enthralled by Eliza's vampire charms, and susceptible as any man to her drop-dead gorgeous figure.

"Tell me, Gustavo, are you ever on the menu?"

"No ma'am, I like my garlic too much."

"Hmmm, I like a little spice now and again, interested?"

"Well, um, that would be up to the boss here. . ."

"Whatever the customer wants, Gustavo, you should know that by now."

Eliza dismissed Armand and followed the six humans into the sitting room.

Several large mirrors adorned the walls of the suite.

Eliza took Bella by the hand and the younger vampiress was startled to hear her ancestress speaking in her thoughts.

"_This place is dangerous."_

"_What do you mean."_

"_Armand is a manager only in the sense that a pimp is."_

"_And Gustavo here?"_

"_Muscle, he's a bouncer."_

"_And dinner?"_

"_Look at them, girl. Look at their eyes."_

"_Compulsion charms or drugs, amount to the same thing, but I think it's worse than that."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_If the entrées have been given potions it could be a way of subverting us."_

"_So if we dine on them, we become. . ."_

"_Potioned or poisoned, in either case not good for us."_

"_So what do we do?"_

"_Feed on Gustavo here, appear to feed on the others, and then see what happens."_

"_When you say "feed" you mean?"_

"_Drain him dry. I'm famished."_

"_I'm feeling a little peckish myself. . ."_

Gustavo was blissfully ignorant as the two hungry vampires smiled toothily at him.

)O(

Author's Note: "erk" is a Briticism for rookie


	23. Chapter 22: Interrogations

Chapter 22 – Interrogations

Eliza was subtle; she had Gustavo on his back while she appeared to ride his inert body. Her burn scars were fading, having eaten more in this one sitting than she'd had in the past month since the attack that had killed her beloved Ian and disfigured her.

"Bella, you have to try some of this!"

The younger vampiress left the two young men in a pheromone induced stupor, making sure their watchers could see the bite marks on their legs near their obvious states of arousal.

As Bella took small sips from Gustavo's chilling body she remarked to herself that a little garlic could be a good thing. But this? Eliza would have heartburn for a week!

"Spicy," she said aloud, then placed her hand on Eliza's arm to reestablish their telepathic connection.

"_You were careful, granddaughter, not to drink their blood?"_

"_Yes, ancestress, even the little taste I got made me a bit nervous, how much of that potion will it take to affect us?"_

"_Diluted as it is by the donor's own blood I'd say a good feeding's worth."_

"_I think the potion is a mild compulsion enhancing draught, the flavor is similar to liquid imperius, but even more subtle."_

"_Very good, most vampires wouldn't notice that."_

"_I'll bet you did."_

"_Oh yes, you don't get to the half millennium mark being careless."_

"_Now what?"_

"_Let's just lie among the bodies and see what happens."_

Bella crawled between the scantily clad girls while Eliza snuggled into the arms of the young men.

They'd lain like that for three-quarters of an hour when the door opened.

"Two more putas for the Dark Lady," Armand said to another man with a sneer, "hey, Chulo, this is what happens when you use a coño for a brain!"

He looked at his bouncer and laughed, "Lupo, chingar estupido! Lupo looks like he got fucked to death over there."

Chulo shook Gustavo by the shoulder then jumped back.

"_Jesus Cristo!_ He's dead!"

Armand reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a wand.

"Ah, a wizard, I see." Eliza said from behind him. She'd moved so fast that the Spaniard hadn't noticed her. One second she was on the ground, the next she was within killing range.

"We're going to talk now. I'm going to ask questions. As long as I like your answers you get to live. Understand?"

Armand's mind raced. She wanted him alive for questioning. If he didn't make any sudden moves he might just live.

"Chulo?" he called, nervously.

"Look to your left."

Bella had Chulo's head bent at an unnatural angle as she drained him of his life's blood.

"I'm afraid my great-granddaughter was a little hungry, surrounded by all that tainted blood. As a matter of fact, I'm feeling a pit peckish myself right about now."

"How can I walk out of here alive?"

"Tell me who runs this place."

"BSOS Incorporated, you know them as the Benevolent Sons of the Serpent."

"They bought this place?"

"The Dark Lady did, she is much woman, yes."

"Did she burn Ian's?"

"Yes, he would not pay the dues. He was estupido, everyone pays, I pay. That's how I stay in business."

"Where does the livestock come from?"

"Mostly youth hostels, a lot of Americans want to see Europe cheap; they bring everything in a backpack. We steal the backpack and they need money. We offer them jobs."

"What potions do you use?"

"I don't know, but without it most of them would run from your kind screaming, this makes them more, ah, suggestible. The Dark lady gives us the potion."

"And what happens to the vampires that feed on your tainted entrees?"

"They too become . . . suggestible."

Eliza stepped back a pace and looked away, shocked that a human would seek to control any of her kind. Armand felt her move away and seized his chance. He pulled a crucifix from his pocket and shoved it into the vampire's face.

She cowered and made the requisite hissing noises as Armand, the would-be vampire hunter, advanced on her. As soon as he came within easy reach she used her preternatural speed to pluck the wand out of his hand. Eliza grabbed his other wrist and brought the crucifix to her own lips to kiss it.

"I love Hollywood," she laughed, "it makes idiots think they have a chance against us."

"Y'know, Armand, I really was going to just let you go, but now, I have to get the taste of that garlic eater out of my mouth."

"No, please!"

"Who owns this place?"

"Senorita Zabini!"

"And the proprietress out front?"

"She is charmed to ignore the sanguinaria. Her enchantment is only to see you as "special" customers who need my attention."

"What of the livestock?"

"We obliviate them and let them go as we find new touristas."

"One more thing, who runs the sanguinaria?"

"Just us senorita, me and Gustavo and Chulo."

"The others of my kind, the ones who have been fed potion, what's happened to them?"

"Senorita Zabini, she knows, I do not."

"Thank you. Bella?"

"Nearly done here, ancestress."

"Are you still hungry?"

Blood dripped from her fangs as she smiled eagerly.

Armand screamed.

)O(

Senior Auror Brian Wright settled into the watch desk with forced calm. Right on schedule the well dressed Benevolent Son walked into the duty area. It took an inordinate force of will for Brian to not simply start the interrogation in earnest, now where had he left those thumb-screws?

"Good evening, Senior Auror Wright. Have you had a chance to look over the materials I brought you last time?"

"Evening, Mister Bletchley. It was good of you to provide a list of your members, a very distinguished group, I must say."

"Those are the associate members, witches and wizards who, like you, are concerned by the, um, _inclusive_ policies of the present administration and are working toward change."

"Through peaceful, political means, of course." The auror offered.

Bletchley beamed, "I'm so glad we understand each other."

Auror Wright looked thoughtful for a moment and seemed to come to a decision.

"Would you be willing to talk to Commander Pierce? He's a highly respected senior officer; if we can get him on board the whole division could be persuaded to join the Benevolent Sons."

It was everything Bletchley could do to appear calm, Merlin's Beard! Recruit the whole division? The Dark Lady would reward him beyond measure!

"Could we arrange a meeting with Commander Pierce?"

Senior Auror Wright smiled, setting the hook. "Of course, but I happen to know he's working late tonight, why don't we take a moment to let him know you're here?"

Bletchley was practically buzzing with anticipation as Wright led him to the conference room where the commander and two other officers poured over documents.

The Senior Auror knocked on the doorframe.

"Commander? This is the young man I told you about. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course, we were just about to have tea, would you join us Mr. Bletchley? You too, Brian."

Just then Smythe, Commander Pierce's adjutant, came in with a tray.

"Milk? Sugar?" he asked the guest.

"Just two sugars please."

The young auror used tongs to pluck two cubes from the sugar bowl, placed them in a cup and poured tea over them. He then poured for the rest of the men at the table. They enjoyed the tea and small talk. When the Benevolent Son had finished half a cup Smythe topped him off.

Pierce knew the combination of calming draught and veritaserum would only take five minutes to render his guest tranquil and accommodating.

"Now, Mr. Bletchley, tell us about the Sons of the Serpent."

"We're a consortium of citizens, business owners, and community leaders with a single goal in mind," he paused for effect, taking a sip of tea as he did, "the return of pure blood privilege."

"I see, and what of the half bloods and muggleborns?"

"Half-bloods will be tolerated, but never allowed into positions of real authority. Mudbloods will be marginalized before they are purged."

The commander smiled, "Would it interest you to know that I am a muggleborn?"

Bletchley seemed saddened at the news, "that's unfortunate, you will, of course, have to go."

"Tell me, Bletchley, what happens to people, say, business owners who cannot or will not accept your world view."

"We destroy them?"

"How?"

"Arson, murder, rape is a good weapon."

"Have you taken part in any of these acts of coercion?"

"Oh yes, I'm first echelon. To be first rank you must be an active enforcer."

"How many have you killed?"

Bletchley paused to count, "four, so far. We are planning something special around the end of this month."

The commander leaned forward, "what exactly?"

"I don't really know, but the Dark Lady told us, y'know, first level folks, to be ready to create some mayhem."

"You seem rather anxious."

"I am."

"Why?"

"It's good to blow off steam, y'know?"

"Were you blowing off steam last month at the MacMillan's home?"

"Oh yes, that was good."

"Who else was there?"

The commander's secretary took notes, as did the four verbatim quills in the room. Once Bletchley had told everything he knew the two obliviators in the room adjusted his memory so that he would only remember that he'd had tea with the Commander and had made an appointment for later that month to pitch the Benevolent Sons at the next division meeting.

When the Benevolent Son of a Bitch was gone the aurors exchanged glances.

Pierce looked at his senior officers, "Dark Lady?"

Wright shrugged, "There's always someone waiting in the wings to pick up where the last one left off."

"We need someone in there."

The adjutant cleared his throat, "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Before I became a tea service I earned top marks in covert operations and infiltration at the academy, sir."

"Are you volunteering, Smythe?"

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Sit down, Mr. Smythe, have some tea."

)O(

Gregory Goyle was walking through Hogsmeade, heading for the outskirts of the village. He was nervous. Theodore Nott had contacted him, telling Greg that he needed to not be anywhere near Parkinson House the around Ostara, the Vernal Equinox. Goyle may not have been the brightest flame in the candelabra but he knew it didn't bode well for Millie and Pansy and the sprogs. He wanted to tell someone outside of Parkinson House, but he didn't know who. Everywhere he looked he saw businesses flying Notts "Benevolent Sons" flags, or wearing the purple wrist bands signifying membership in the BS organization.

First thing, though, he had to tell the girls. Then figure out who else they could trust. He wished to Merlin he could contact Potter, but he was in Australia of all places.

He was going to tell the aurors what he knew of Nott and his band of followers but the first maroon-robed auror he saw also sported the purple wristband. He spun and walked away as fast as he could without attracting attention to himself. As he neared the outskirts of town the old Crabbe Manor house, once so foreboding, now so warm and welcoming, came into view. He sped up until he was almost running. He practically collided with Millicent coming out the front door to greet him. Fortunately they were both made of stout stuff and neither was hurt. He was practically sobbing in relief, seeing her there and whole.

"What's the matter, baby?" she asked, concerned.

Greg wrapped Millie in a tight embrace and just managed to choke out, "Pansy, we gotta talk to Pansy!"

Millie held him until he could compose himself. Someone had terrified Greg, you could threaten or beat or torture her big guy and he wouldn't break, but you could get to him through those he loved. The thought of anything happening to her or any of the sprogs terrified him. He knew now that they were okay, and smoldering anger bordering on a berserker rage lurked just below the surface.

"Better?" she asked, solicitously.

Gregory wiped away his tears with the back of his hand.

"You must think I'm a right ponce." He mumbled, embarrassed at his emotional outburst.

"Never. I'll call Panz, why don't you send an owl to Rita?"

Soon Pansy, Millie and Gregory were sitting around the table sharing tea. Rita came in, out of breath, her hair in disarray. She'd obviously rushed over.

"I came as soon as I could, what's up?"

Pansy started, "I've been noticing a pattern. The Sons of the Serpent move into an area. Pretty soon all the businesses that don't join them suffer all manner of bad luck. Fires, robberies, even physical attacks on employees and customers."

Rita was quick on the uptake, "Someone from the Benevolent Sons came to see you?"

"Yeah, I didn't say no, but I didn't say yes either."

"Might as well have been a "no," far as the Sons of the Serpent are concerned."

"Now Greg's old mate, Theo, tells him it's unhealthy for him to be here."

The young man in question held tightly to both Millie's hands and said with absolute conviction, "I ain't goin' nowhere!"

"First things first," Pansy said, "we gotta keep the sprogs safe. Professor McGonagall said we can go to Hogwarts if an emergency comes up. I think this is a good time. We'll have a few golems or simulacrums around to convince the Sons of the Snake they're still here."

"How much time do y'think we have?" Millie asked.

All eyes went to Gregory, who shrugged, "Theo said I needed to be out before the equinox."

"That gives us a week, maybe ten days." Pansy said.

"I have a friend in the Auror Corps, I think it's time I called in a few favors."

"Will he help us?" Pansy asked.

"Oh, I think he will, he's a randy old goat and he likes me – says I remind him of this muggle actress, Miranda somebody or other." She snorted, "Really, do I look like a "Miranda" to you?"

"What's his name?"

"Pierce, _Randy_ Pierce." She said with a snicker.

Just then Odin ran from his room howling "Mummy, Daddy!" and then burst out of the dining hall and into the night.

The tall druid swung his adopted son up into the air and cried "Hullo pup! Didja miss us?"

The little boy just shrieked and laughed, "I knew you was coming, I smelt ya!"

Remus turned to Bella and said, "Either our boy has a great nose or we are in desperate need of a bath!"

"Speak for yourself, husband, I'm always clean and fresh!"

"Well, fresh perhaps. . ."

"Oh you!"

The newlyweds walked into the dining area and saw four smiling faces.

"Welcome home, we've quite a bit to tell you."

Remus and Bella shared a significant look, "We've quite a bit to tell you as well."

Then Remus, Bella, Gregory, Pansy, Millie and Rita all said together, as if on cue, "It's about the Sons of the serpent."

The six adults looked gobsmacked. Odie laughed and said, "That was funny, say it again."

)O(

Author's note: Synchronicity, a phenomenon that occurs when several seemingly unrelated parts of a puzzle suddenly fall into place to form a picture.

In this case it doesn't bode well for Zabini and company.


	24. Chapter 23: Setting up the Board

Chapter 23 – Setting up the Board

"Millie, please don't do this."

"Gregory Goyle I'll thank you to not ask me again!"

Pansy knew Greg was in trouble; Millie only used his full name in order to cow him. Funny thing though, he was not cowering, rather he was standing his ground.

"I'm thinkin' of our sprogs, anything happens to me you'll do all right, but if, if anything happens t' you. . ." Greg choked, "or the baby. . ."

Pansy's head snapped up.

Millicent groaned in frustration.

"So much f' keepin' it under wraps, huh?"

Greg looked confused for a moment, then lowered his head and said, "uh, oops?"

"Millicent Veronica Bulstrode!" Pansy growled.

The big girl looked sheepish, "Yes Mummy Pansy."

The small brunette glared, "Don't you "Mummy Pansy" me, Millie, how long have you known?"

"We ain't exactly sure, Panz, I'm just a little late."

"By about five weeks," Greg mumbled.

Pansy swirled her wand in the air in front of Millicent's abdomen, which proceeded to glow light blue.

"Congratulations, you two, it's a boy. And you are going to keep an eye on the other sprogs while they're safe at Hogwarts, y'know, keep em' out of mischief."

Millicent stood wide-eyed and gaping at her intractable partner.

"Fine," she said, and huffed out of the room.

"Nice little slip of the lip there Greg."

Goyle looked a little smug, "I knew you'd get her to see reason if I let it slip that we were in a family way."

"Why you sneaky little, no, make that _big_ snake!"

"Musta been a reason to put me in Slytherin, eh?"

)O(

A dozen thestral-drawn carriages waited for their passengers for the Hogwarts field trip that afternoon. The plan was to deliver the students to the school, then return with golems of appropriate size after the sun went down that evening. Headmistress McGonagall was thrilled to have the children. She and her staff, along with a handful of trusted sixth and seventh year students had made a project of transfiguring the small clay dolls and charming them to look and act like primary age children. A stroke of genius from Ravenclaw's own Luna Lovegood allowed each golem to look exactly like whichever child they touched – so when Marty McClellan shook hands with his simulacrum it took on his features, right down to the clothes he wore.

The dreamy blonde Ravenclaw made it a point to inspect each golem as it left the great hall on its way to the carriages. 

The headmistress allowed Luna her little quirks, and Flitwick grinned as his favorite student inspected each creation as it left the hall.

"You look perfect," she'd say, then plant a friendly kiss on the doll's forehead.

As the last of the small figures strolled very convincingly to a carriage Luna casually raised her wand and sang "_Immobilus!_"

The "golem" growled, very much like a small, angry wolf.

Millie ran out to him.

"Odie?" She snatched him up in a Millicent-sized hug, "what do you think you're doing?"

Seeing Millie had him well in hand Luna removed the immobilizing spell.

Little Odin was furious, "Mum and Da need me, they are Pack, Mummy Pansy and Uncle Greg, and Auntie Rita, they're Pack too. We have to help them!"

"We are helping them, little wolf."

Millie and Odie looked surprised at Luna, who continued in her dreamy voice, "We're helping them by keeping all their children safe, so they can defend your home from those who would harm you."

"How'd you know I waz a wolf?"

Millie laughed, "Auntie Luna sees things that most people miss."

"Kin y'see Mum and Da?"

"I can see they love you very much, and I can see that they need you to watch over the rest of the pack. I can see them very proud of you for staying and protecting your brothers and sisters."

Odin nodded gravely and Millie knew she could put him down.

"Now go fetch your golem, I think your friend is a little confused." Luna said with a kind smile.

"Oh no, Ali!"

The littlest werewolf ran back into the great hall where Alison was having a rather one sided conversation with his simulacrum, but not minding because Odie's golem was agreeing with everything she said.

)O(

Remus and Bella had just finished placing the ward stones around the manor house.

"Do you have the charging rune in place, Bella dear?"

"Yes, dahling, a nice bit of work that."

"I got the idea from Bill Weasley," he said with a grin, "that man knows his way around wards and runes."

The wards were charged by drawing magic from anyone who was not either a resident or an invited guest of Parkinson House. That would leave an attacker weaker from the get go. An overt attack on the property would actually strengthen the wards. The more intense the curse, the stronger the wards would become. 

Portkey and apparation would only be allowed in and out from specific locations. Attempting to apparate to and from anywhere else would result in a lethal case of splinching.

"We'll rest during the day; the wards will alert us if someone crosses the outer perimeter."

"You don't fool me you old wolf, you just want an excuse to spend all day in bed with me."

"Bella, dear, your daybed is a coffin."

"Have you seen it lately?"

His eyebrows rose at this.

"It's amazing what a few enlarging charms can do for a small space." She said as she sashayed back toward the manor.

"Ahhhhrooooo!" he laughed, chasing a giggling Bella back to the big house.

'When was the last time I giggled like a schoolgirl?' she laughed to herself.

"Too long!" she said aloud and smiled.

When they arrived, still laughing, in their room he was amazed at the four poster. He could see the white wooden sides with gold trim forming the bed itself; the top of the canopy was the equally enlarged coffin lid. Only a truly discerning eye could see the resemblance to a coffin.

"Well?" she asked, smirking.

"Well indeed," he said, and downed a large vial of blood replenishing potion.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Famished!" she answered, "but not for food!"

She stepped out of her cloak and gown then ripped his vestments away with preternatural speed and strength.

He growled and they began to heat up the room with the ferocity of their coupling.

Pansy looked up from her books and smirked.

"Newlyweds!"

)O(

The sun had just set and Bella, Remus, Pansy and Greg sat at the large dining table, where golem children went through the motions of eating. Rita was in London entertaining Commander Pierce.

"We know the "Benevolent" Sons will visit us sometime between now and Ostara, I'm guessing before." Remus said.

"How's that?"

"The Wizengamont meets on the equinox, that's when new members are vested. The BSers will want to make a subtle point about the dangers of not subscribing to their "benevolence.""

"Ah," Pansy smirked, "a moment of silence for our tragic victims. . ."

"Exactly."

"We have a wonderful opportunity here," Bella interjected, "if we can let the Minister in on our little party."

The perimeter alarms sounded and Gregory touched his wand to the scrying glass on the table before them.

"It's Rita, and she has two men with her." He said.

"The tall fellow with the earring is our esteemed Minister of Magic. I don't know the other gentleman." Pansy offered.

"Out late tonight, Rita?"

"Tonight and every night, Pansy."

The group breathed a sigh of relief, the password had been given and the counter was correct.

Rita crinkled her nose as she introduced her guest, "This is Randy, excuse me, _Commander_ Pierce, DMLE. And this, of course, is our own Minister of Magic, the Right Honorable Kingsley Shacklebolt, QCMP."

"We're honored, gentlemen."

Kingsley's deep voice rumbled, "The honor is mine, Ms. Parkinson. I understand that it was you and your house that transformed Ms. Skeeter here into the socially conscious crusader she's become."

Both women blushed, "I'm sure you exaggerate, Minister."

"No," Rita interjected, "I was a bitch of the first order." Her eye's twinkled behind her subdued glasses, "Still am, but only to those who earn it!"

The room shared a laugh at that.

Kingsley noted, "Fine work on the wards there."

"That was Brother David's work." Pansy offered.

"Warrior Priest?"

"Yes, Minister, and this is my wife Bellanca, formerly of the Daughters of Vesta."

The Minister's eyebrows arched high on his forehead, "I was going to garrison a squad of aurors here, but with you two in house it might be redundant. Both of your sects are known for their ferocity in battle."

"Oh minister," Remus said with a smile, "you don't know the half of it." 

Having said that they shared a look, within seconds where two people had stood there were two very large, very intimidating wolves.

Pansy laughed at the gob-smacked expressions on their two visitors, she addressed the wolves.

"Why don't you two go upstairs and change back, we don't need to be flashing the Minister of Magic." 

They picked up their fallen clothing in their muzzles and bounded up the stairs three at a time. Within moments they'd returned to the table.

Commander Pierce unrolled a legal parchment and set a verbatim quill to recording.

"Let's share what we know."

The next two hours were pivotal in the Shacklebolt administration's initiative against the "Benevolent Sons of the Serpent." Each member shared what they knew; Pierce let them know that he had a man, a trusted auror, in the ranks of the Benevolent Sons. Kingsley shared his observations on the political mechanizations of the "BSers." 

By the end of the evening they had a plan. 

By the vernal equinox the Benevolent Sons of the Serpent would be nothing but a bad taste in the mouths of magical Britain.

The sprog golems marched off to bed.

"I miss the noise." Pansy said, sadly.

"Yeah." Greg agreed.

"They'll be back soon, and most importantly, they're safe where they are."

)O(

The Dark Lady basked in the adoration of the newest recruits, one of whom was in daily contact with a high ranking officer in the DMLE. Miles Bletchley had outdone himself. 

'Let's see, his tastes run to sadistic revels,' Blaise thought, 'I'm sure Parkinson house will be a good outlet for that.' 

The young auror, Smythe, was almost too good to be true; he had the latest intelligence on Department of Magical Law Enforcement deployments and a day to day knowledge of the inner workings of the DMLE. He'd already been promoted to second echelon. Soon he'd be blooded, endure the veritaserum debrief and legilimens probe and, once cleared, be invited to the inner circle.

Of course, if he wasn't exactly who he appeared to be then the Dark Lady would personally gut him like a fish and set fire to his entrails while he was still alive to enjoy it.


	25. Chapter 24: Battle for Parkinson House

Chapter 24 –

Chapter 24 – The Battle for Parkinson House

It was nearly sunset on a perfect day, clear and cool on this last day of winter, the air held the promise of spring. Parkinson House had been ritually cleaned, the children unusually reserved and solemn for the occasion, even the Ostara egg hunt seemed subdued. But a close look at the three dozen children showed happy faces as they cavorted amongst the symbols of birth, the eggs, and the symbols of fertility, the cute little white bunnies all over the front lawn. Pansy, Bella, Eliza and Rita walked among the children smiling and "oohing" and "ahing" as each child located another treasure. The sun dipped below the western mountains.

This pastoral scene was watched by malevolent eyes as Miles Bletchley, now the favorite "son" of the Dark Lady, stood just outside the wards with the rest of the inner circle. Across the street and down half a block five figures, heavily cloaked against the failing daylight, waited.

"I'm sensing complex wards around the place, but nothing too powerful. A few blasting hexes on the charging runes ought to take them out.

"Remember, you only have to grab one or two of the little ones and the rest will cave in. Kill one or two of the lil' bastards and that'll really get their attention, then we kin have our fun with Miss "Pug-nose" Parkinson and the other bints, and a few of the girls and boys for those of us with the inclination."

Several of the disillusioned men laughed salaciously at that. The cloaked figures watched impassively.

Theodore Nott the Third was the only one to recommend caution.

"Parkinson will be easy enough, but I hear tell of a druid priest and a vestal virgin on the premises. Neither one of them should be taken lightly. If you see the priest, AK his arse."

A chorus of desultory "yeah, yeahs'" told Theo that he'd lost whatever respect the men had once had for him.

"Fine, don't listen to me; get your fool heads blown off."

Bletchley spoke up, "Theo's right. Don't assume anything." He turned his attention to the curse breaker he'd recruited. "Well?"

"Found them," the man said, "clever arrangement, five anchor stones, roughly in a circle. Five interlocking lay-lines, each one forming a focal point from four other stones."

He crouched down low to inspect the short post with the inscribed symbols of power and protection.

"We'll have to take out three simultaneously to get past them."

Bletchley sent two other men to the nearest two ward anchors. When he saw the blurry air where the disillusioned men stood coincided with two of the other rune-stones he dropped his concealment spell, raised a hand high, then brought it down quickly.

Three blasting hexes destroyed the wards around the house and property and ten black robed men rushed onto the lawn, each one grabbing a struggling child as he converged on the stunned women.

Pansy was the first to regain her composure.

"What do you want here Bletchley?"

"Oh, you remember me, do you?"

"Yeah, you were on the quidditch team, full of yourself then as now. What do you want with us?"

"We're gonna make an example here!"

"By attacking defenseless women and children?"

"Yeah, about that, regrettable that is, but _no one_ will turn down the patronage of the Benevolent Sons of the Serpent after this."

Rita smiled and spoke over her shoulder, "Did you get that, sweetheart?"

"That I did darlin', that I did." Commander Pierce stepped out of the doorway in his maroon auror's robe.

Miles Bletchley looked perplexed.

"I don't care how many aurors you got here, Parkinson, anyone tries anything and this lil' one gets it."

Rita looked over the statement, duly recorded by the Verbatim Quill™, quickly folded the missive into a paper airplane then let it streak off into the sky.

"That should make the evening edition!" she said smugly.

"What are you on about, bitch? You just killed this little girl!"

Saying that he threw the child down and shouted "Avada Kedavra!" The girl was bathed in a green glow, and Bletchley turned his wand and his steely gaze toward Rita.

"You could kill a child so easily?"

"Nuthin' to it!"

"Well," she said, with flint in her voice, "that makes this easier then."

Rita flicked her ever-present poison green quill in Bletchley's direction. The pen entered his skull just above and between his eyes and only stopped as the nib protruded from the back of his head.

Bletchley only had time to blink before he fell, face first, to the ground.

The rest of the attacking force was momentarily stunned.

"The pen is mightier than the wand!" Rita spat contemptuously.

One of the black-robed attackers screamed "Kill em' all!"

Three of the five watchers from across the street streaked toward the manor house, bloodless faces a mask of hunger, lips curled back to expose their fangs.

The squad of aurors and Gregory Goyle un-disillusioned themselves and brought heavy crossbows to bear on the attacking vampires. Luckily, for the defenders, the vampires were hampered by drugs and the imperius curse – and the fact that they had been starved to the point of insanity.

Two of the vampires fell, multiple crossbow bolts in their chests. The third, a feral female had been hit by several wooden bolts as well, but none through the heart. She reached Greg and tore at the veins in his neck, feeding greedily as the aurors tried in vain to pull her off.

Eliza Shakespeare was there before anyone could see her – she pulled the feeding vampire's head back by the hair and offered the starving vampiress the inside of her own arm, which was taken greedily.

"See to his wounds!" she shouted to the stunned aurors, "I'll take care of this one!"

Eliza fought her way into the vampiress's mind through the sharing of blood and the battle for dominance began. When it was over one of them would be in control of the other.

When the attacker screamed "Kill them all!" Pierce grabbed Rita by her collar and pulled her into the mansion, Pansy dove behind the short garden wall and Bella seemed to disappear. She was, in fact, moving with the preternatural speed of her kind. Within five seconds three of the attackers had their heads twisted completely backwards on their shoulders, accompanied by a sickening crack, crack, crunch as bones in the spine popped out of place. Still running she morphed into her white wolf form and was immediately joined by her grey wolf mate. They tore into the remaining attackers tooth and claw.

Bella looked up from a clean kill and saw a man level his wand at Remus. She knew she couldn't get to either the wizard or Remus in time but she could throw herself between the attacker and her mate.

She sprang.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Green light enveloped her and the white wolf glowed emerald for a moment - then fell to the ground.

The wizard shouted in triumph just before he fell, the grey wolf's jaws locked on his throat.

Two attackers were randomly firing curses until one realized that every child he'd hit had simply gotten back up again.

"Avada Kedavra!" the man screamed desperately. He watched a little boy fall, then get up again, blinking.

)O(

Nearly invisible, Blaise Zabini and Mitzi watched from the other side of the street. The Dark Lady had lost six of the fist echelon in less than a minute.

"Mitsi, summon them."

"Yes, my Lady."

She placed her pendant over the tattoo on her left breast and pressed. The surviving Sons felt their tattoos burn and each screamed "Portus!" while clutching their own pendants.

Nothing happened.

Theodore shrieked "Anti-portkey ward, get out however you can!"

He was just about to apparate when he saw one of his fellows do just that. The man splinched so badly it reminded Theodore of the time he'd seen the inner workings of a slaughterhouse.

"Don't apparate! Run!"

Blaise took careful aim and transfigured Theodore into the only form that seemed appropriate, a yellow snake.

The transfigured Theo had the presence of mind to slither quickly in the direction of the road. Blaise disillusioned the snake, picked it up, and calmly walked away from the carnage.

)O(

"We need at least one alive!" Pierce shouted to the wolf.

He may as well have been talking to the air.

His mate was dead.

He was going to kill, and kill, and kill until he was spent, and then he was going to die. Kill and die. Nothing else mattered.

He slowly advanced on the remaining two wizards who had dropped their wands, hands raised in surrender.

Remus didn't care, they were his prey.

"Stop, beloved."

He stopped.

That voice, that scent, he turned to look at Bella in her human form, gloriously naked and pale in the fading twilight.

Remus transformed and stood, also naked, in utter disbelief.

"You were dead!"

Bella gathered him into her arms and said, "I'm already dead, you know that."

Rita and Pansy brought the embracing couple their robes, and then stepped away, letting them comfort each other.

Commander Pierce leveled his wand at Eliza and her opponent, still struggling for control on the blood soaked lawn.

"In accordance with the decree for the regulation of dark creatures I arrest you for attacking Her Majesty's Department of Magical Law Enforcement officers.

Eliza didn't look up from her charge.

"No, you don't. This vampire was a mere child, recently turned, when a British mage bound her will with potions and tortured her to insanity."

"That may be, madam, but I have my duty."

"Commander," Rita said, softly, "Randy. This is not going to end well if you don't lighten up."

Pierce looked back at the struggling women on the lawn, then at Rita.

"What can I do?"

Rita smiled, "Let the fairer sex work this one out, eh?" She called over her shoulder, "Bella?"

Bella and Remus joined Eliza and her squirming companion, enfolding them both in a tight embrace.

A field medic had closed Goyle's wounds and poured vial after vial of blood replenishing potion down his throat.

Pierce asked, "Is he going to make it?"

The medic shrugged, "He's got a fifty-fifty chance, lost a lot of blood y'know."

"Will he be a vampire too?"

"Don't think so, the vamp has to share its blood with the victim for that to happen. She wasn't in a mood to share."

"If he makes it I'm going to deputize him. The DMLE takes care of its own."

"What if he doesn't, sir?"

"Auror funeral, full honors."

"Aye, sir."

)O(

Blaise and Mitsy returned to the London flat. They had barely gotten out of Gringott's in one piece – the ministry had frozen all of BSOtS's corporate assets, Blaise was able to transfer all the liquid assets from the Zabini vault to that of Mitsy Rolfe. For a twenty percent cut of the transaction the head teller had allowed the Dark Lady and her companion to use the only secure apparation point out of Gringott's. A squad of auror's burst into the room and fired a cocktail of deadly curses a fraction of a second too late.

What they did accomplish was the complete destruction of the apparation point, making it impossible to trace the Dark Lady's destination.

)O(

Glen Kercheck and Joshua Bush were not having a good day. It had started out so well. The stimulating send off by the Dark Lady herself, the anticipation of the hours of revelry to come – both men had taken endurance potions just before apparating to Hogsmeade.

Then it had all gone pear shaped.

An old auror sat across the table from them looking cold and sharp as flint.

"The "Benevolent" Sons of the Serpent are finished. It's all over the Wizarding Wireless – how you were just a gang of murderers, rapists and extortionists. That alone will get you twenty years in Azkaban. If that protean charm is classified as a dark mark you won't have to worry about Azkaban. It'll be the veil for the likes of you."

"Ain't you supposed to offer us leniency if we cooperate?"

"Depends. Are you cooperating?"

Both men nodded their heads vigorously.

)O(

Author's note: I've re-written the battle scene twice since the first draft two weeks ago, trying to get the pieces to fit and not leave out any important characters.

If you want to know why the wards are so effective just place five dots in a roughly circular pattern on a sheet of paper, then draw a straight line from each of the dots to the other four, don't miss any connections. It should be obvious.

I like the character that Greg has become in this story – his fate actually rests on the flip of a coin. I flipped the coin and can tell you that heads means he makes it, tails he doesn't.


	26. Chapter 25: The Drugs Don't Work

Chapter 25 –

Chapter 25 – The Drugs Don't Work

The headquarters of the Benevolent Sons of the Serpent, Theodore's London home, was unplottable and under a fidelius charm. Blaise was the secret keeper. The self-named Dark Lady side-along apparated to the spacious flat with Mitsy Rolfe, who, in turn, carried Theodore Nott, still a transfigured yellow snake.

Blaise placed a gentle hand on Mitsy's shoulder, "My love, will you send portkeys to the second-tier sons? There are eight of them."

"Of course my Lady."

Six of the eight came immediately, a seventh was in a ministry holding cell awaiting trial on a non BSotS charge and the eighth was Smythe, who was partnered with a high ranking ministry official and couldn't get away.

"Mitsy, darling, will you excuse us for the afternoon, please? I may have to be harsh with some of our "sons" and I'd rather you not be here for that.

Mitsy sighed and nodded, "I will await your summons my Lady."

)O(

Two hours later the Dark Lady stood in the living room of Nott's home surrounded by the mangled corpses of her second echelon. Theo was still alive but his hands and feet were spiked to the wooden floor making him look like a specimen being prepared for dissection.

"Someone betrayed me, Theo. If it was you then tell me now and save yourself no end of pain."

Knott whimpered, "I never did, Blaise, mate, you know that, you _gotta_ know that!"

"_Crucio!_"

If Theodore thought having railroad spikes driven through his hands and feet was painful it was because he'd lacked a sense of scale. The pain of stigmata receded to a dull throb as every living nerve ending in his body was pierced by a white hot wire. He didn't just scream, he shrieked until his throat was raw.

"Only those who love me more than their own lives call me Blaise! To you I am the Dark Lady!"

Theodore looked about wildly, there had to be a way out of this.

"My – my Lady, please," he sobbed, desperate for a reprieve, "I was betrayed too! Who knew we were going to be there?"

"What are you implying?" Blaise pressed, dangerously.

"We were ambushed . . . ambushed by aurors! Doesn't that mean . . ."

"Smythe!" the Dark Lady cried, then knelt down on the floor next to the Theodore, who still trembled in shock from the prolonged cruciatus curse.

Blaise Zabini was a chess player – usually two moves ahead of the other players. Looking down at Theodore's tortured face the Dark Lady had an epiphany, one that would, in time, bring ultimate victory. It was time to shift the pawn.

"Oh Theo, I'm so sorry! I should have known Smythe was just too good to be true, I should have known better than to let an auror so close to the inner circle!"

Blaise became very solicitous toward Theodore. The spikes were vanished and Theo was levitated to the enormous bed in the master bedroom.

"This is going to hurt, sweetie, and I'm sorry, but it's the best way to get your hands and feet healed."

Theo went into shock as all the bones of his hands and feet were magically removed, then nearly choked on the insanely bitter Skele-Gro™ potion.

"It's going to be a long night, Theo, but Mitsy and I will help you through it."

Blaise transfigured the six corpses into china dolls, then packed them all away in a trunk. Later the Dark Lady would drop the weighted trunk into the Thames.

A few basic housecleaning and furniture restoring spells and the flat was pristine once more – not even a hint of the carnage remained. Blaise even knew some good air freshening charms.

Mitsy returned in answer to her summons and looked worriedly at her Dark Mistress.

"Is everything all right my Lady?"

"Please, my love, call me Blaise."

"Are you alright my, ah, Blaise?"

"We are going to have to rebuild the organization. We have been betrayed."

Mitsy's eyes grew dark. "Who, my Lady?"

Blaise looked at Mitsy, the Dark Lady's most faithful disciple, and sighed.

"What would you do, my love?"

"I would kill them."

And therein was the reason for Zabini's troubled sigh.

"Mitsy, love, you are the one good thing in my life. You have never taken a life and that is one of the things I cherish most about you."

"I – I could kill. . ."

Blaise smiled, "No. You might wish someone dead, you might even mean it, but you're no killer."

The woman whom Zabini rescued from her own world of pain, abuse and neglect crumpled at the feet of her beloved Dark Lady and sobbed great hiccoughing sobs.

"I'm so useless, Blaise. What good am I?"

Blaise kneeled and gathered her into a tight embrace.

"You are not a bringer of death, you will be the source of our ultimate victory – you shall snatch life from the very jaws of death."

Mitsy looked into Zabini's dark brown eyes.

"What would you have me do?"

"Carry my child?"

This time Mitsy shrieked for joy and clung even tighter to the center of her universe.

"Yes, Blaise, and gladly!"

Zabini lifted her up and carried her to the great bed where Theodore Nott lay in a troubled sleep. This didn't concern Mitsy in the least; she was used to sharing Blaise with other men.

Mitsy accepted the deep violet beaker of potion without question. She assumed it would be a fertility brew. She was right, of course.

"My Lady, how will we be sure that the baby is yours?"

Blaise took the strongest dose of aphrodisiac to date, so much so that his nerve endings began to buzz.

"Theo is not feeling well, my love. We're just here to comfort him through the night as his bones re-grow."

"You are merciful and kind my Lady, my love."

Blaise nodded, completely convinced of the truth of that.

)O(

Millicent Bulstrode was six years old when her older brother, Sean, had been brought home. He'd been playing broom-tag with his mates in Hogsmeade and had followed one of them into the dark forest where they had both flown into a web as big as a cargo net. Sean threw himself across his smaller chum to shield the boy from the horrors that ran up the web to feed.

It had worked. Her brother had taken all the venom. By the time the adult wizards had rushed in to kill the acromantulae Sean's internal organs were just so much goo, liquefied by venom.

He'd been levitated home by four solemn neighbors and Millie felt so utterly helpless.

Millie was six years old again as four wizards levitated Greg through the gates of Hogwarts. She felt so helpless.

Great bloodied plasters of medicinal smelling moss and linen were wrapped around his neck and shoulder.

"Miss Bulstrode!"

Millie was shaken from her grief by McGonagall's authority. When the headmistress had gotten the girl's attention she spoke more softly.

"Walk with them, talk to Mister Goyle, he needs an anchor to keep him with us. Hearing your voice will be the best thing for him right now."

"You mean, he's not – not. . ."

"Not if our healer has anything to say about it, but . . . he's in a bad way. Help him, if you can."

She walked beside his levitated body all the way up to the hospital wing.

"Greg, guess what? Our baby, it's a girl – she's gonna be beautiful. You're going to spoil her rotten and chase away all the boys who come sniffing around and she'll have you wrapped around her little finger and . . ."

And so Millie kept her one-sided conversation going even as Madame Pomfrey worked her magic on his wounds. The healer stepped away from the alumnus to confide in the headmistress.

"I would normally have shooed her away by now but I don't think much of Mister Goyle's chances."

"We may have a solution for you, Healer Pomfrey."

Both women were startled as Eliza Shakespeare appeared at their elbow along with her newest charge, the vampiress T'Shauna.

)O(

Earlier that day:

Eliza was in a very dark place. She held fast to the feral vampiress pinning the struggling youngling's arms to her sides. The starving vampire howled in pain and grief and frustration. Eliza recognized the landscape, fire, brimstone, the wails of the damned a cacophony in the background.

She was in Hell.

The fact that Hell only existed in her mind made it no less real. Some part of her believed to her core that she deserved to be here.

"I thought the same thing, young one."

The snarling vampiress stopped. There was someone else there, someone else _real_.

"Who?"

Eliza relaxed her grip, but didn't let go.

"Someone who has walked the night for half a millennium."

"Goddess?"

"No, but I hope to meet her someday, I think we'll have much to discuss."

"The hunger, the burning pain, you took it away?"

"You're feeding on me right now so, yes, I have taken your hunger away."

"You _are_ the Goddess!"

"Fine, if that's what you want to believe."

"I only wanted to have some fun, y'know? All these beautiful vampires parading in and out of the place and I wanted some of that too."

Eliza looked carefully at her companion.

"I thought you looked familiar, you were at Ian's?"

"Yes, Goddess, I'm T'Shauna, my family emigrated from Ethiopia, it's very bad there for Jews, and I worked hard and made good grades and won a grant to go to university but it was still too expensive and some of my friends said they made good money and had "endowments" with clients at their restaurant so I applied."

Eliza commended the girl on her ability to talk in run-on sentences.

The dark vampiress blushed; she really wasn't much more than a child, even by human standards.

"I was not at work when Ian's burned."

Eliza pulled her thick hair from her face, showing her scarred cheek, mostly healed.

"Oh, Goddess, you're hurt!"

"I'm mostly healed, I want to find the people who set the fire and when I do there won't be a drop left in them."

"Nott." The girl said.

"Not what?"

"No, not _not_, Nott, a name, somebody named Nott set the blaze. Oh, and someone named "Blaze" was involved as well."

Eliza smiled, "the Benevolent Sons of the Serpent."

"Yes, that's it. I heard it from the vampire who turned me, he was very, um, easy to convince."

"That was the potion; it's also part of what made you so easy to set on the short-lifes today."

"Oh, Goddess, I'm so sorry."

"Be at peace, daughter, it wasn't you, it was them."

"How may I make this right?"

"You may be asked to help, if so, will you?"

"Of course. Goddess."

T'Shauna opened her eyes and found she was being embraced by two women, and a tall, thin man who smelled like a wet dog.

)O(

Millicent was in mid-babble about how much fun it would be to dress up their little witch in dresses and shoes when she looked up to see four women. Madame Pomfrey, Headmistress McGonagall, and two strikingly beautiful creatures.

Madame Pomfrey spoke.

"Miss Bulstrode, I understand you are bonded to Mister Goyle?"

"Yes, Madame."

"Then it is in your power to make decisions for him in the event that he can't."

The big girl nodded.

"Miss Bulstrode, Mister Goyle was attacked by a vampire. We've done what we can, we've completely replaced his own blood with restorative draughts but he is still on the brink. He may very well die, unless. . ."

"What?"

"Unless the vampire who attacked him shares some of her blood with him."

Millicent thought hard for a moment, "but, then he'll become a vampire too?"

The two women next to the healer nodded.

"He would see his daughter born."

There was a long pause as Millie digested this.

Finally she shook her head and said, "No. 'Cause he'd also see her grow old and die and all her children and their children's children."

A single bloody tear coursed down T'Shauna's dark cheek. She no longer had family. Vampires were shunned in her human family's society. After a while the young vampiress spoke.

"Yes, perhaps it is better that he not become like us."

"But I don't want to lose him!"

Eliza stepped forward.

"You'll never lose him, Millicent. If he moves on you'll see him again, and soon."

"I don't want to live without him."

"And what of the life growing within you, don't you want to see her?"

"Of course," she said, sniffing.

"Then live! You have something better than someone to die for, you have someone to live for, and in so doing you'll honor Greg, no matter what happens here."

Millicent sat in the chair beside Greg's bed.

"He's so cold, and I'm all talked out."

"Does he like music?" T'Shauna asked.

"He likes BWitched and Verve."

"Oh," the dark vampiress enthused, "I love "Urban Hymns"."

"Really? That's his favorite!"

"Oh if we only had a CD player here!"

"The. . .Drugs. . .Don't. . .Work."

All five women in the room gaped at Gregory Goyle.

"Greg?"

"Hey. . . baby. How's. . . our. . . baby?"

"She's fine! Oh Greg!"

Madame Pomfrey smiled, "all right now, shoo, everyone, shoo!"

"Shoo all you want, Madame Pomfrey, I ain't goin' nowhere!"

The healer huffed but relented.

"Just don't get in my way!"

"She . . .?"

)O(

The next day dawned like a firestorm in the Ministry of Magic. The Benevolent Sons of the Serpent, had been revealed for what they really were, another rising dark force in Wizarding Britain. To have a dark mage so close on the heels of Tom Riddle's reign was too much. The public demanded action.

Shacklebolt was granted full executive powers by a two-thirds majority in the Wizengamot - those casting opposing votes found themselves under heavy scrutiny. Half the dissenting ballots were from wizards and witches who genuinely felt that giving Kingsley so much power smacked of Empire, they were left untouched.

The other opposing votes were linked to BSotS activities and were summarily removed from the august body pending full inquiries.

Most of them would flee the country before the month was out.

As time went on more and more people came forward to testify against the "Benevolent Sons," and to seek reparations from assets seized by the ministry.

It was more than a little disturbing that the Dark Lady herself hadn't been apprehended. Neither had her lieutenant, Theodore Nott the Third.

)O(

Bella and Remus were more than happy to exchange the Odin golem for their own flesh and blood Odie. He shrieked with joy as he saw his Mum and Da and Mummy Pansy. The energetic little pup nearly bowled over the werewolf with his infectious enthusiasm. Soon Bella and Remus's "Brother David" persona and Pansy were surrounded by squealing sprogs.

The Hogwarts students were saddened to see the little ones go. Many of them had no siblings at home and were thrilled to have little brothers and sisters to visit when they went to Hogsmeade.

The Hogwarts Big Brothers and Sisters organization met for the first time that weekend. Everyone there wished it could have been a happier occasion. Luna Lovegood dispatched her hare patronus twice, first to Hogwarts, then to Parkinson House.

Someone had taken two children.

Odin and Alison had been portkeyed out of Hogsmeade.

)O(

Author's Note: this chapter's title comes from one of the 1998 chart-toppers in the UK "The Drugs Don't Work" by the British group, The Verve.

Yep, the coin came up heads. I, for one, am glad.


	27. Chapter 26: House of Cards

Chapter 26 –

Chapter 26 – House of Cards

The Hogsmeade weekend was going swimmingly. Sixth and seventh years had signed up en masse to take their adopted little brothers and sisters out for a treat, and later for games of spell-tag and broom rides.

Amy Colleen had a group of six, as some of the surrogate big brothers and sisters were organizing games on the community green and all the kids wanted to run around the little village shops.

Odin and Alison broke away from Amy's group heading into Honeydukes, Ali didn't care for sweets and Odie wasn't going to be separated from his mate. Amy stood just inside the door of Honeydukes, watching the cute little couple checking out Zonko's Joke shop. Odie, as usual, was in his customary kid-sized druid vestments. She wasn't overly concerned about the man in the Zonko's robes who was tossing hoops and giant rubber balls and bubble wands to all the kids as they passed the storefront.

Another young man in Zonko's garb rolled a plastic hoop toward Odie and Ali and said "Catch!"

Laughing the young couple grabbed the hoop simultaneously – then felt a pulling sensation behind their navels.

The young man shouted "gotcha!"

Amy Colleen screamed.

The man looked up and disapparated.

Pansy and Millie told their charges, "Stay here!" and ran to the sweet shop door.

Luna Lovegood dispatched her hare patroni before joining the Parkinson House parents.

Amy was hysterical.

"Colleen, Amy Colleen, listen – listen to me, who took em' c'mon Amy, help us out here!"

The Irish girl choked back her sobs and stuttered out "he was a student, a seventh year last year, a Slytherin, I'm sure of it. Tall, skinny, spiky brown hair, bad acne."

Pansy and Millie shared a meaningful look, "Nott."

"Yeah! That's him, Teddy Nott or sumat!"

"Everyone back to The House, now!"

The students gathered up their charges and moved the party back to Parkinson House – most of them didn't even know there was a problem, and were eager to show their new big brothers and sisters their home and rooms and playthings.

Pansy gathered the older students together, "Keep em' busy, keep em' occupied. Okay?"

The Hogwart's students, most of whom had seen combat during the siege of Hogwarts in the previous year nodded. They were not going to let their little brothers and sisters down. Not now, not ever.

)O(

Bella and Remus were confused as they saw their charges coming back to The House so early. Confused, that is, until a silvery white hare told them in Luna's ethereal voice "Someone's taken two children, call the authorities!"

The vampiress and the werewolf felt the sinking, hopeless, mind-numbing fear that all parents feel when a child is hurt – or worse. "Please, please, don't let it be ours."

Bella was at the floo, calling the DMLE before Luna's ethereal voice had a chance to fade.

Nearly all the children were back before Millie threw herself into the tall druid's arms.

"Odie . . . they took lil' Odie!"

Remus held the large, sobbing girl at arms length, "who took Odie, how did they get him?"

"It was Nott, Theo Nott, and he took em' with a portkey!"

"Them?"

Millicent nodded, "Ali was with him. Ali's always with him."

Greg stumbled out of his door, "I gotta do summat! I kin help, I tell ya!"

Millicent was on him in an instant, "No, ya great lummox, ya can't, not this time. Now back to bed wit cha!"

"Millie, Theo's flat, I been there. London. Bridgeman Road! Near Islington!" Greg wanted to say more but his eyes rolled up into his head and he nearly fell over. Millie was there to catch him.

Bella was in deep meditation.

"Ancestress," she projected, "Meet us at Bridgeman Road, Between Holliway and Islington."

Remus laid a gentle, reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Do you know the neighborhood?"

"No."

"I do, I've done a few odd jobs in the area."

"Great, let me side-along with you!"

"Of course."

Pansy placed a hand on both their shoulders, "They got two of me sprogs, no way in hell are you goin' without me!"

"Or me!" Millie insisted.

Remus was getting impatient, "easier if we portkey." He looked around and found a small plastic lorry, touched it with his wand tip and said "West Islington, _portus_!"

"Grab on everyone, three, two, one!"

At the last possible moment Pansy bumped Millie with her hip, making the larger girl lose her hold on the toy.

Millicent screamed in frustration as the other three were ported away.

)O(

Glen Kercheck was miserable. He'd narrowly avoided being kissed by testifying against his Dark Lady. He'd told them everything he knew, which wasn't much. He didn't know the location of BSotS's headquarters because it was under a fidelius charm and he wasn't the secret keeper. No one asked him about the pendent he wore – it was under a powerful "notice-me-not" charm and he wasn't able to talk about it.

Unfortunately he wasn't able to activate his pendant/portkey as he was shackled, day and night, by anti-apparation, anti-portkey manacles.

Something was going on, the aurors were scrambling around, scrying, divining, desperately trying to find someone or something.

A low level auror said, "C'mon Kercheck, they want you up in the infirmary."

The Benevolent Son was cooperating every way he could, biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to use his emergency portkey.

"I'll take him," said a familiar voice.

"Smythe?" Kercheck whispered.

"Shut it! I'm gonna' get you to the infirmary, there's a floo connection there, once you're in the fireplace your portkey will work, remember to wait until they take the cuffs off, right?"

The man nodded.

As they walked into the infirmary Smythe told the orderly, "get baseline readings on this one, he's on his way to a resort in the North Atlantic."

The orderly smiled evilly, "Roit you are guv! C'mon then, lets get you up on the table. Healer Jones will be along smartly!"

The healer came in wearing the traditional lime-green robe and told the orderly, "Remove the cuffs."

The orderly did, then placed a vice-like grip on the prisoner's shoulder, to assure the man that any funny stuff would earn him naught but pain.

The healer waved an amethyst crystal around Kercheck's head and shoulders, paused, made some notes and reached for his white wand.

The infirmary doors burst open and a breathless young woman in maroon auror's robes shouted, "Healer Jones, come quick, we got casualties!"

The healer ran off, the orderly relaxed his grip and the prisoner dove for the fireplace in the corner. Before the orderly could snatch him out again the portkey activated and in a cyclone of green fire a grinning Kercheck disappeared.

Smythe, Jones, and the young auror walked calmly into the infirmary all smiles.

"Got the beacon going?" the ersatz orderly asked.

"Oh yeah," Smythe said with grim satisfaction, "we may not be able to see the place under a fidelius charm, but we'll see the beacon for miles and miles."

Healer Jones added, "We already know where to start, West Islington."

)O(

Odin and Alison landed hard on a dingy cellar floor. The little boy yelped as he'd fallen painfully on his right wrist and the little girl had fallen full on him.

A croaky voice, that of a woman who'd screamed herself hoarse, pleaded, "Who . . . who's there?"

The children scrambled to their feet. Odie whispered to Ali, "I'm gonna change."

"No!" she hissed. Alison wasn't sure it was a good time to tip their hands, it might be better to wait until they knew more about their kidnappers.

Ali spoke up, "Who's in here?"

Odie's night vision was excellent even in his human form.

"There's a lady in the corner, all wrapped up in a blanket."

He sniffed the air, then whispered to Ali, "she's all beat-up and she smells like she's mated with different men."

As their eyes became used to the lower light Alison could see her. She was older than Mummy Pansy and Mummy Millie, but not as old as Auntie Rita.

"You okay?" the little girl asked solicitously.

"I've been better" the lady said, and drew her thin blanket closer around her. I don't suppose you got anything to eat?"

Odin had a biscuit wrapped in wax paper in the small leather bag that hung from his robe's rope belt. He offered it to the lady who took it gratefully. No one spoke as she ate slowly, savoring every bite.

The sound of keys against a door above shattered the silence. Alison and Odin stood between the door and the frightened lady in the corner.

"Lumos!"

The wand tip flooded the cellar with light, making the children squint in the glare.

"You better let us go if ya know what's good for ya!"

"Shaddap kid, no one cares on account a you're orphans. No Mum, no Da, just a couple a diesel-dykes ta feed the lot of you."

"You're wrong! I got me Mam and me Da, and when they find you you'll wish you ain't been born!"

Theodore Nott the Third, the man behind the wand pointed to Alison.

"An whot's she got, she got a "Mam" an Da too?"

Little Odin came very close to morphing as he said in a voice far too low and dangerous for a seven-and-a-half year old boy, "She's got _me_!"

Nott came down the steps and the lady in the corner scrambled to her feet and put herself between the child and the threat.

"No!"

"Stupefy!"

Red light flashed and the lady was blown back against the wall, where she collapsed, naked, in a boneless heap. Theodore laughed, turned his back on the children and started up the stairs.

Note: Turning your back on an angry werewolf may not be the smartest thing you ever do.

Odie morphed into the brown wolf and sprang, pulling his prey down. The still lighted wand-tip created a strobe effect as man and wolf tumbled down the steps. The brown wolf stood, Theo didn't. Odin, the wolf, limped over to Alison, favoring his right foreleg where the boy Odie had sprained it.

Then they heard it, twin howls in the distance, Odin sat on his haunches and yowled in reply.

Another cry, closer this time, another reply before he was bathed in red light and his world went black.

)O(

Pansy ran to keep up with the two wolves. She'd heard it too, the response in kind. She'd never heard of a seven year old animagus before, but she didn't care. She didn't care if Odie or Ali or both were bloody werewolves - she just wanted them home and safe.

Pansy couldn't help but chuckle as she ran to keep up. Who ever heard of werewolves running around in the middle of the day during a new moon?

The white wolf morphed back into her human form. Pansy wrapped her in the smaller of the two cloaks she'd been carrying for that purpose.

"We heard him. Odin is around here. He can be hidden from human eyes, but not ours. He's pack, and we'll hear him or catch his scent, I know he's near!"

A sound like the rustling of cloth made Pansy turn to see Eliza Shakespeare arrive.

"What the _fuck_? I thought vampires couldn't stand the sun!"

Eliza rolled her eyes even as she fastened the clasp of her acromantulae silk cape.

"Neutrogena, _Healthy Defense Daily_, SPF Forty-five. It's also a wonderful moisturizer."

The ancient vampiress turned to Bella.

"Anything?"

"They're close."

There was the rushing noise of an arriving portkey. The two vampires and the werewolf stood ready, Pansy had her wand drawn.

Millicent Bulstrode stood there smirking. She handed a parchment to Pansy who recognized Greg's neat handwriting.

"The Headquarters of the Benevolent Sons of the Serpent is Number Six, Bridgeman Road."

As Pansy read the address aloud a Georgian Manor house seemed to erupt from the ground.

"Millie, I'm sorry . . ."

"Shut it, you!" Then her expression softened, "look, I know why you did it, but I'm only a few weeks along and you never know when you could use an extra wand, eh?"

"We're alright then?"

"Yeah, no worries."

Eliza took command, "Millie, why don't you take Pansy and this big brute and see if you can find a way into the cellar? Bella and I will take care of whoever else is in the house."

With that, two witches disillusioned themselves, then did the same for one very determined wolf with "near human intelligence" before sprinting around to the back garden.

)O(

Bella smirked and told Eliza, "You know someone has to invite us in, right?"

"Of course!"

Bella hit the front door with the flat of her hand, reducing the English oak to so many toothpicks.

"Sounded like "come in" to me!"

Eliza went left and Bella went right. A green bolt barely missed the younger vampiress who was on her attacker in less than a second.

"You know what?" she said as she held Glen Kercheck off the floor by his throat, "Those curses _hurt_!"

She slowly, deliberately pulled the struggling Benevolent Son to her extended fangs and her preternaturally wide-open mouth.

The last thing Glen Kercheck knew in his wasted life was complete, unmitigated terror.

Eliza flowed up the steps to the upper floor bedrooms. She followed the smell of blood and sex and found Blaise Zabini, the Dark Lady herself, naked and kneeling in the center of a flaming pentagram. Zabini's eyes appeared to be focused on a random spot on the wall, lips moving in a near silent incantation.

"_Animus meus perserveros_ . . ."

Blaise was beautiful, soft glistening black curls cascaded over broad shoulders and ridiculously large breasts. Most unexpected, a somewhat impressive semi-flaccid cock dangled between smooth muscled ebony thighs.

"_Animus meus perserveros_ . . . _animus meus perserveros_ . . ."

)O(

The three members of Auror Team Six stood in the square just south of Bridgeman Road looking lost. There had been a signal when they'd apparated in. They'd disillusioned themselves immediately upon arrival, then spread out to try to triangulate Kercheck's beacon. They had narrowed the signal to a single row of Georgian homes when the Benevolent Son's pointer winked out.

"Somebody found the tracer." Auror One whispered.

"That or he'd dead." Auror Three suggested.

"No loss, that." All three said in unison.

"Right then," the team leader said, "plan two. Close scan for magic – some pretty powerful stuff going on around here and we should detect a hole in the grid. I just hope something leaks through the fidelius before anything happens to the hostages."

The other team members grunted in assent.

)O(

Things weren't going well in the cellar. Theodore had stunned Odin twice more – to be sure he stayed stunned - and then enervated the woman just to abuse her. Ali had tried to intervene but her slight, eight year old body was too small, too light. Nott had simply back-handed the annoying child, sending her reeling across the room. Ali's burst of accidental magic knocked Theodore into the far wall, but he'd recovered quickly and advanced on the tiny orphan girl.

"You wanna play rough, little bitch? I show you rough!"

Saying this he lifted Alison by the front of her dress and shook her before throwing her across the room.

The woman, beaten and battered as she was, gathered Ali into a tight embrace, then turned her back on Nott.

"Leave her alone!" she croaked out.

Theodore Nott the Third had had enough, he raised his wand and gathered as much hate and rage as he could muster.

"_Avada_ _Ke_-"

There was a crash as the three blackened basement windows exploded inward, bathing the interior of the cellar with daylight.

A huge grey wolf stood between Nott and the frightened woman and child.

"_Expeliarmus_!"

"_Expeliarmus_!"

The disarming hex came from two different directions simultaneously.

"You miserable _FUCK_!" Pansy screamed, "You took my kids! _Diffindo_!

"You hurt my babies! _Malleus_ _osteo_!

"You ain't gonna ever, _sectum_ _sempra_, never, _inflamare_, gonna hurt me or mine again."

She stood as tall as her one hundred fifty centimeter frame would allow and intoned "_Avada_ . . ."

"_No_ Pansy," Millie cried, "_expeliarmus_!"

Pansy's rage began to abate, morphing into icy, calculating malevolence. She looked down at Theodore Nott's slashed, battered, burned form. She looked into his tortured eyes and knew that he knew that he'd done the unforgivable – he'd come between a mother and her children, worse, he'd hurt two of Pansy's children. Now he knew the meaning of pain, and he knew the only release he'd have would be in death.

"No killing curse?" Pansy asked. "Fine, then. _Moblicorpus_!"

"Goodbye Theo, I hope you burn in Hell! _Bombarda_ _maxima_!"

Such was Pansy cold fury that Theodore Nott the Third was reduced to a fine red mist that painted the basement wall of his family's matriarchal home.

Pansy looked down at the prone form of Odin the wolf, his wolf papa curled protectively around him.

Millie laid a hand on the brown wolf's scruff.

"He's breathing. His right forepaw is swollen but other than that he looks okay. _Enervate_!"

The big girl had to repeat the enervation spell twice before the wolf began to stir.

"Odie!" a petite strawberry blonde haired missile streaked over to the recovering cub and threw herself around his scruffy neck.

Pansy and Millie knelt by the battered woman who had shielded their daughter with her own body.

"We can never thank you enough. Anything you need, anything at all, you come to us. You need a place to stay? We got lots of room. You're family now."

The lady nodded gratefully, "I'll be needing a place to stay, me and my own little one."

"You're more than welcome, um, who are you?"

The abused woman smiled up through tear filled eyes and said, "Mitsy. Mitsy Rolfe."

)O(

Bella joined Eliza in the master bedroom and watched the chanting transsexual curiously.

"I see some shield ward lines." The older vampiress observed, "Nothing we can't handle."

As the two night-stalkers converged on Blaise the flames of the pentagram flared, giving the two ladies some incentive to step back.

The ends of Zabini's curls smoldered.

"So if we get too close she, he, oh whatever – _it_ gets toasted?"

"I'm trying to see the downside of that." Bella smirked.

"That _thing_ killed Ian, and I promised to drain his murderer dry." She looked pensive for a moment and said, "I'll be right back."

That left Bella alone in the room with the Dark Lady. The vampiress started scuffing the rune marks on the floor with her slipped foot.

"That won't work."

Bella looked at Blaise who held her gaze.

"You're Bellatrix LeStrange."

It wasn't a question.

"I used to be. And you're a bloke."

"I used to be. You should know that if I'm killed this house will collapse in on itself and take anyone in it with me. I don't think even a vampire can survive the implosion."

"Same spell you used on Ian's place?"

"Pretty much."

"You seem rather calm for one who's about to die."

"Am I?"

Just then the floorboards exploded from within the flaming pentagram and Blaise Zabini was pulled through a hole that was really a bit too small for the Dark Lady's body.

"I hope she didn't waste too much blood."

Bella moved quickly to the ground floor where Eliza had already begun to feed on the Zabini's broken body.

"Ancestress, there's a mortality curse on this house, if 'Dork Lady' here dies the whole place implodes!"

Eliza Shakespeare looked at her descendant and smiled, "I've had a good run. Not many of us make it to Five Hundred. Get the short-life's out of here and try not to survive your "Wolfie," okay?"

Bella smiled and nodded. There wasn't any sadness in it, she knew better than most what waited on the "other side."

"I love you Auntie Eliza."

"And I love you too, Bella. Now go, I'm feeling a little peckish here."

Bella swooped down into the cellar and shouted "We've gotta get out of here! Remus, can we portkey?"

The wolf reverted to human form and Pansy, who had been carrying his things, handed him his robe and wand.

A few cursory waves of the wand and he answered "yes."

"Well for Hecate's sake, hurry!"

He accepted his robe from Pansy and touched it with his wand-tip, intoning "Home, _portus_."

"On three, two, one!"

At the instant the portkey activated the last of Blaise Zabini's life's blood drained out and, as forewarned, the Nott's matriarchal home imploded in a mass of contracting wood and masonry and flame.

)O(

Author's note: One more chapter to go. Then I need to spend more time working on my original stuff. I have several short stories and two novels in the works and hopefully I'll find a literary agent and a publisher (that's PAYING market) this year.

I've given Greg Goyle a beautiful tenor voice in this story; I thought I'd gift him with nice handwriting too.

Those of you who've been with me since "Bella Rising" began have an idea of what's coming. Expect a plot twist before it's done.

Ciao bene,

N!


	28. Chapter 27: Gimme Shelter

Chapter 27 –

Chapter 27 – Gimme Shelter

Mitsy Rolfe was tired, but elated. Everything had happened just as her beloved Dark Lady had predicted.

"If you look like an abused prisoner they will help you, if you place yourself in harm's way they will trust you. When you escape they will shelter and protect you and our baby."

"If you can endure a few days of pain and discomfort any cuts or bruises will be further evidence of your trustworthiness."

Mitsy steeled herself. "I will endure it for you."

"Remember, when the time is right, use the knife, the book will tell you how."

They had made love, tenderly, for the last time. Blaise cast the spell to ensure that she was indeed pregnant with his child before sending her naked into the cellar.

The Dark Lady called for Nott.

"Theo, Mitsy has been getting ideas above her station, why don't you remind her that this organization is run by those of us with nads?"

Theodore smiled.

"Oh, and Theo?"

"Yes, My Lady?"

"She _likes_ it rough. Make the little bitch squeal!"

Blaise found perverse satisfaction in the muffled sounds of Misty's piteous cries.

She endured brutal rape and starvation for five days, interspersed with her transsexual lover's only slightly less brutal fucking. Mitsy's only source of water was a cold-water tap in the basement sink. She was allowed to sponge bathe. She was not allowed to douche.

A medical examination would indicate that she'd been violated by at least two men, repeatedly.

)O(

When Nott's house imploded the fidelius fell. One minute there was nothing between Number Five and Number Seven, then there was a clap of thunder and a smoldering hollow in the ground like a bomb crater.

No one on the ground noticed the large white bat fluttering from tree to tree, keeping to the shadows.

Auror Team Six looked at the smoking hole.

"Is that what you were hoping for, Chief?"

"Not exactly." Auror One answered, he had a sinking feeling that told him whoever had been in the house was now dead. "Get forensics up here, we need to scan for human remains."

"Right away, Chief."

)O(

Poppy Pomfrey came away from Mitsy Rolfe's room shaking her head.

"She's been used, and badly, you can be sure. I've healed the broken rib and teeth and multiple cuts and bruises but Miss Rolfe is going to need some quality time with a mind-healer before she's ever better."

"The baby, is it, well, from the rape?"

"Apparently not. She was taken shortly after she'd learned she was pregnant. That's the one good thing in all of this; Mummy and daughter are doing well."

"A girl then."

Poppy nodded.

)O(

Pansy and Millie now knew Brother David's true identity; Bella had unintentionally given him away during the assault on Nott's estate.

Neither minded that a werewolf was minding the children at Parkinson House, the moon was nowhere near full and he was under the watchful eye and in the tender care of Bellanca, late of the Daughters of Vesta and a powerful wolf animagus.

In this little corner of Hogsmeade dark did not mean evil.

Millicent decided that Mitsy would be her preggers mate – they were due about the same time, Millie perhaps as much as a month ahead.

Both mothers-to-be had that look about them – content, fulfilled, resolute - that all pregnant women have shared since time immemorial.

That and runaway hormones, swollen feet, morning sickness and mercurial mood swings.

Pansy left Greg and Remus in charge of The House, citing the need for a "Girl's day out." Their first stop was Toni's Beauty Shoppe in Diagon alley for a complete makeover.

The proprietress looked at Bella with a calculating eye and offered a variety of products to give her "a little color."

"Your skin and hair are perfect, dearie, they are to die for!"

Bella smirked, "You don't know the half of it."

Millie and Mitsy went for short, off the shoulder hair styles that complimented their slightly rounded faces, Pansy had her hair lengthened, lightened and permed. She'd grown into her up-turned nose and, with just a touch of make-up she was, for the first time in her young life, in point of fact, pretty.

She stared at her unexpectedly attractive reflection, eyes welling with tears.

"What is it Panz?" Millie asked, solicitously.

"When I was little, m-my Daddy called me his "Pretty Pansy," but even then I could see that I wasn't."

"Maybe pretty is as pretty does?"

When they tried to pay for the makeovers Toni shook her head.

"You're the ones who took in all those children at the end of the war, come in anytime dearies, but your money's no good here."

They thanked Miss Toni, profusely, and went on to torture the proprietor of the shoe shop next door.

The bald man in the cobbler's apron groaned. He recalled a conversation he'd had with his mates in the Leaky Cauldron just the night before.

"Give me a bloke anytime. A man come's in, says "I'll have the black with the round toe," E tries em on, says, "I'll take these," puts is old pair into the box and wears the new ones out t' break em' quick like."

"Now when the _ladies_ come in they want to try on every pair, in every color. And after they's surrounded by boxes and tissue they may or may not decide to buy a pair atoll on account a they're "jus' shoppin'"."

As it was all four ladies went with a variety of heel heights from flats, in black and tan, to three inch heels in black, white and ivory.

They took a light lunch. Pansy, Millie and Mitsy ate salads while Bella snacked on a small brick of Honeydukes finest dark chocolate with a small port. She assured her friends that, while she was a little hungry, she knew her husband was keeping something warm for her back home.

After lunch they all converged on Gringotts. The goblins were terse, as usual, but almost courteous around Bella.

The lead teller gave each of the ladies a charmed scroll that kept an updated account of the contents of their vaults. Pansy checked her bottom line, blinked, and checked again, then sat hard on the cold stone floor.

Millie knelt by her side.

"What is it, Panz?"

Pansy didn't answer; she just handed over her parchment.

She had been endowed, from the estate of Eliza Shakespeare, with ten thousand galleons – per annum – on behalf of Parkinson House and Primary School.

Millie shrieked and gathered her best friend up in a bone-crushing hug.

"Now we can have a proper home and school for all our sprogs, and twice as many more if it comes to that!"

Bella had a letter from Eliza that outlined long term investments which left her feeling pensive – she didn't need to be reminded that she would outlive all of her newfound friends, and her husband. A single bloody tear marred her perfect left cheek.

A goblin teller cleared his throat and handed the vampiress a lacy handkerchief.

"Thank you." She sad, dabbing the blood away.

"Not at all," he whispered gruffly, "can't have the humans panicking in the bank 'cause there's a vampire in the lobby."

"I suppose not."

Mitsy filled out a withdrawal form requesting the box labeled "Avery" from her vault. The goblins grudgingly complied.

)O(

On the night before her rescue Blaise told Mitsy, "I've given the goblins a box to put into your personal vault. I told them it was a gift for you from William Avery, it's a black lacquered wooden box and it is the most important thing in the world. With it I will be able to come back to you even if this body is killed."

Mitsy didn't understand, but she had believed Blaise Zabini. More importantly she'd believed _in_ Balise Zabini.

)O(

When they all returned to Parkinson House Mitsy took the box into her room and sat on her bed contemplating its smooth, dark surface.

She took a deep breath, held it, let it out slowly and opened the lid.

Inside she found an old leather-bound book, "Majiks Most Darke," and a stiletto knife. Blaise had made a list of pages and paragraphs, especially noting those pertaining to horcruxes – specifically those instructions for activating one.

)O(

"Life is so much easier when we're wolves." Odin was explaining to Alison. "We eat, we play, we run with the pack. No studies. . ."

"I heard that!" Remus said, sternly.

"But Da, I don't need arithmetic to catch a rabbit!"

"Odie, my son, some day your life will be much more than just catching rabbits. You'll have a job and a family and cubs of your own – and they'll have to live in the human world."

Allison tugged her best mate's sleeve, "don't you want us to live in a proper house?"

"We'll live here, won't we?"

"Maybe for a while, but then we'll want a house of our own with a yard and trees and room for the cubs."

Remus reaffirmed his vow to allow his son to grow up without the fears and prejudices of his own sorry childhood. Of course, animagus training so early in life would make his lycanthropy look less like a curse and more like a gift. He certainly had more control over the beast, even during the full moon, than any werewolf before him. Thanks to Bella, of course.

Who would have thought that the way to make one dark creature safe for his fellows would be the love of another dark creature? He smiled at the thought and silently gave thanks for his bride.

"Brother Dave - I mean Remus, would you help me become a wolf too?"

"How do you mean?" Remus asked, afraid he understood only too well.

"Well, you could bite me when the moon's all full."

"No!" Odie shouted.

"Why not?" the little girl demanded.

"Because it hurts and it's scary and I don't want any of that to happen to you!"

Remus put a calming hand on his adopted son's shoulder.

"You were turned by a monster, Odie, someone who enjoyed hurting people. We won't let that happen to Ali."

"But I wanna run with the pack too!" Alison insisted.

Remus sat cross legged on the floor.

"Let me tell you about a group of children who called themselves Marauders, and how they helped a poor, scared, lonely werewolf find acceptance and love. . ."

)O(

Bella returned from shopping and a side trip to the sanguinaria (no really, just a quick bite) properly warmed and showing more color than usual. She stood in the doorway of the study where her husband consoled Odie and Ali – a girl in whom she saw a good match for her adopted lycan son.

She listened as Remus told the story of his friends, James and Sirius and Peter, how they knew what Remus was and didn't care – all that mattered was that he was their friend. They worked hard and taught themselves to become animagi so that the four of them, and later a fifth, could run through the forbidden forest when the moon was full.

When her husband promised to help Alison discover what her animagus form was she pulled the little girl into a tight embrace and said, "You are pack, remember that. No matter what form your animagus may take, you are of the pack forever."

Ali cried happy tears and grabbed Odie's hand before skipping off to play.

"They're going to be good for each other." She said with a smile.

"Hmmmm, you're warm. I guess you won't be needing any of me tonight?"

Bella pulled Remus into a searing kiss, "Oh yes I do, I have other needs that only you are "gifted" enough to fill."

She released a small dose of pheromones to let him know exactly what she was insinuating.

Remus picked her up with a lusty growl and practically ran to their bedroom, slammed the door and set locking and silencing charms about the room.

Just before the silencing charm took effect Bella's voice could be heard all over Parkinson House.

"Oh Sweet Hecate, yes!"

)O(

"Ah spring is in the air!" Millicent smirked.

"They do seem happy." Mitsy observed.

"It was funny watching them dance around each other til' she dropped her vestments for him."

"Vestments?" Mitsy asked.

"As in Vestal Virgin." Millie answered.

"How about you? Happy with your, um, boyfriend, fiancé?"

"Yeah, with us it was easier, once I saw what a sweetheart Greg really is I just threw him down and had me wicked way with im!"

Mitsy looked away and Millie blanched. She'd just described what had been happening to the poor girl in that cellar for Goddess knows how long!

"Oh God and the Goddess, I'm so sorry, I'm so stupid, I wasn't thinkin'. . ."

"No, its okay, see?" Mitsy smiled. "I'm okay."

"C'mere you." The big girl insisted and pulled the tiny woman into a gentle hug.

"Remember, when you're here, you're home. You just don't live in this house; you're part of it, you and the princess you're carrying. Roit?"

The small woman nodded.

"Ain't nobody gonna hurt our Mitsy, ever again, not while there's breath in our bodies!"

Mitsy felt the weight of the big girl's words and the depth of her unselfish love and began to wonder if her mission could, or _should_ succeed.

Did she have it in her to take an innocent's life to get the Dark Lady back?

)O(

Mitsy had never been a dab hand in the kitchen, but the simple fare that the sprogs of Parkinson House enjoyed was fun to cook – and she loved the reaction that simple fare, like beans on toast, could elicit from dozens of hungry little mouths. One thing Mitsy could do really well was biscuits.

"It's not like I'm actually baking anything special here," she said, a little timidly, it's just porridge and currants and sugar and a little baking powder on a baking sheet."

"Cor, don't matter what's in em' the sprogs love em!"

Spring passed into summer and the team of Millie and Mitsy became locally famous for their biscuits. Hogsmeade's Dry Goods and the Green Grocer couldn't keep the simple brown bags on the shelves.

Late one summer afternoon a well-dressed older couple came knocking.

"May we speak with Miss Bulstrode and Miss Rolfe, please?"

Both women came in looking like Mother Christmas, rotund in their pregnancies, cheerful – a light dusting of flour on their reddened cheeks.

"We have to take their pictures dear, they are perfect!" the lady said, smilingly.

"Pictures for what?" Mitsy asked.

The gentleman offered his card.

Norman and Vera Dukes of Honeydukes Confectioners.

"We would like to market Parkinson's House Biscuits."

Pansy smiled, "Just how many shops does Honeydukes own?"

Mr. Dukes smiled and said, "At last count, five hundred. There is a Honeydukes in every major population center that has a significant magical population."

Millie looked worried, "I don't think we can handle that many stores, we're running ourselves ragged just keeping up the orders for Hogsmeade."

"We can handle the production from our bakery just outside of Campletown, you provide us with the recipe and we will mass produce the biscuits."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, "and what will Millie and Mitsy get?"

"Five percent of gross sales." Mr. Dukes said with a grandfatherly smile.

"Twenty percent and total control of production and advertising, start to finish." Pansy countered.

"That's not going to happen, Miss Parkinson. Eight percent" Norman offered.

"What a pity, Mr. Dukes, I was so looking forward to working with you. I'm sure Miss Skeeter will enjoy telling your customers how you tried to profit from a home for war orphans."

Vera Dukes stood. "Fifteen percent of gross, quality control oversight and right of refusal for any form of advertising."

"Honeyduke!" the older man complained.

"Oh do be quiet, Norman. What do you say ladies?"

Millie looked at Pansy, who smiled and nodded.

"You've just bought yourself a biscuit, Mrs. Dukes."

)O(

Summer passed into autumn and Millie huffed and pushed and huffed and pushed and cursed all mankind for putting her through this and swore if Gregory Goyle came anywhere near her with that "thing" again she was going to bleedin' cut it off!"

The midwife smiled and reassured a white faced Greg that she'd heard worse.

"She's a big girl," the mid-witch consoled, "it won't be long now. Just keep hold of her hand and keep talkin' to her. There's a good man."

"AAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhHHHH!"

Millie and Greg screamed together as the littlest Goyle crowned and Millicent dislocated several bones in Gregory's hand.

Just a few moments later Glynda Pansy Goyle, all fifty-five centimeters and four point two kilograms of her, greeted the world with a healthy set of lungs.

"Beautiful!" Greg cried, "She's so beautiful, just like her mummy!"

Millicent pulled her baby to her ample breast and cooed.

"Thas' me little one, thas' our lil' Glynda!"

Greg smiled through his own tears at his daughter feeding hungrily at the "tap" and said, "lucly lil' sproggette!"

"Hush Gregory, we'll be home soon and I'm sure there's enough t' share."

Greg's ears glowed bright red as the midwife and Pansy and Mitsy and Bella all laughed out loud.

The happy couple motioned Mitsy to join them at bedside.

"Mitsy, we talked to Pansy and she and, um, _we_ want to name you Godmother to Glynda."

Mitsy Rolfe looked into the expectant faces and knew, for the first time in her life, unconditional love and acceptance.

She saw her course at that moment with absolute clarity.

"Of course I will," the very pregnant little woman enthused as she patted her ample belly, "after all she's gonna' be Serafina's best mate!"

)O(

The next day Mitsy returned to Gringotts.

"Please return this to my personal vault; I don't want to see it again in my lifetime."

She handed the black lacquered box to the lead teller who grunted something in gobblty gook. Then added, in English, "For a nominal fee we can place the object in a legacy vault, where you may bequeath it to a person or persons in the future."

She remembered the squib who had treated her so badly that Blaise Zabini had seemed to be her salvation. What was that squib's name again?

Karl. Karl Stephens.

Mitsy smiled most unpleasantly.

)O(

"Are you sure, Auntie Bella?" Alison Farrington asked, wide eyed.

"Absolutely." Bella smiled, "your animagus form is a badger."

Remus laughed at that.

"What's so funny?" Ali insisted.

"You will be the perfect mate for Odie!"

"How's that?" the boy in question asked.

"Because, dears," Bella answered, "the badger is the most aggressive member of the weasel family – a full grown bear will not bother a badger, you'll have no trouble keeping a wolf in line!"

Alison smiled at Odin and said "and don't you forget it!"

Later in the room that Bella and Remus shared she asked, "Do you think we're taking this whole "Odie loves Ali" game a bit too far, I mean, they're only eight."

"I don't think so," Remus answered, "they've already been through so much together, their shared experiences have made them wise beyond their years.

"I've noticed that they argue over the same kinds of things the other children do, but they never intentionally hurt each other, and one or both always ends up apologizing when they do."

"Never let the sun go down on your anger." Bella said, and then smirked, my mum used to say that when I was little, I passed it on to Ali, who evidently shared it with Odie."

Remus kissed his wife tenderly and asked, "Will you watch over them and their children when I'm. . ."

"Shush, you." She said, placing a finger on his lips, "you might just as well outlive me."

The werewolf snorted "Yeah, right."

"No, seriously." She said, "I can be killed, and there are those who would congratulate themselves for it – just for being what I am."

"They'll have to get through me first!" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

"The point, dearest, is that none of us really know how much time we have. The important thing is to live each day with the sure and certain knowledge that it's a gift.

"If we just remember that then we won't easily become petty or short with each other."

"Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"Only every day, but say it again, just to be sure."

Finis

)O(

Thus endeth the tale "Bella Rising." There is a possibility of a sequel, Harry and Hermione's kid(s) will attend Hogwarts, as will Millie and Mitsy's sprogs. And Blaise isn't exactly dead. He's only _mostly_ dead. . . (Don't you just love Princess Bride?)

I would be unforgivably remiss if I didn't acknowledge my most faithful reviewers, SelenePotter of "Harry's Harem" fame, the incomparable Dr. T who writes the best fanfiction out there IMHO, Wonderbee31, Coolone007, the prolific Clell65619 who just keeps em' coming, RedJacobson who tells it like it is.

Even though I'm standing down as a fanfic author, it's not goodbye, just farewell. I plan to check daily for updates from my favorite authors, oh, along those lines, keep an eye out for stories by GuitarGurl – a new writer who has a fresh point of view and commentary – she may just be the next big thing in fan fiction.

So long f'now,

Norman

(Now you know what the "N" in PerfesserN stands for.)


End file.
